UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


HOPE     LESLIE: 


OR, 


EARLY   TIMES 


THE     M  ASSACHUSETTS. 


4  6  9§ 


y     THE     AUTHOR     OF 


LIVE,"    "  REDWOOD,"    &C. 


Here  stood  the  Indian  chieftain,  rejoicing  in  his  glory  ! 
How  deep  the  shade  of  sadness  that  rests  upon  his  story : 
For  the  white  man  came  with  power — like  brethren  they  met — 
But  the  Indian  fires  went  out,  and  the  Indian  sun  has  set  I 

And  the  chieftain  has  departed — gone  is  his  hunting-gi-ound, 

And  the  twanging  of  the  bowstring  is  a  forgotten  sound : 

Where  dwelleth  yesterday  1  and  where  is  Echo's  cell  ? 

Where  has  the  rainbow  vanished  ? — there  does  the  Indian  dwell. — E. 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 

VOL.   I. 


NEW-YORK: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,   62    CLIFF- ST.       ^^ 


1842. 


..-.v..iig  lo  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1842,  by 
Harper  &  Brothers, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  New-York. 


% 


PS 
H77 

HOPE    LESLIE. 


^  CHAPTER  I. 

) 

^  \  "  Virtue  may  be  assail'd,  but  never  hurt, 

\jl,  Surprised  by  unjust  force,  but  not  enthrall'd  ; 

Yea,  even  that  which  mischief  meant  most  harm, 
Shall  in  the  happy  trial  prove  most  glory." 

'^'^    .  COMUS. 

'  «[  William  Fletcher  was  the  son  of  a  respectable 
'I  country  gentleman  of  Suffolk,  in  England,  and  the 
*•  destined  heir  of  his  uncle,  Sir  William  Fletcher,  an 
eminent  lawyer,  who  had  employed  his  talents  with 
^  such  effective  zeal  and  pliant  principle,  that  he  had 
Y  won  his  way  to  courtly  favour  and  secured  a  courtly 
^  fortune. 

Sir  William  had  only  one  child — a  daughter ;  and 
possessing  the  common  ambition  of  transmitting  his 
name  with  his  w^ealth,  he  selected  his  nephew  as  the 

r future  husband  of  his  daughter  Alice. 
"  Take  good  heed,"  Sir  William  thus  expressed 
himself  in  a  letter  to  his  brother,  "  take  good  heed 
*   that  the  boy  be  taught  unquestioning  and  unqualified 
;^  loyalty  to  his  sovereign — the  Alpha  and  Omega  of 
^  political  duty.     These  are  times  when  every  true 
"^   subject  h^s  his  price.     Divers  of  the  leaders  of  the 
Commons  are  secret  friends  of  the  seditious,  mis- 
chief-brewing Puritans ;  and  Buckingham  himself  is 


33G033 


4  HOPE    LESLIE. 

suspected  of  favouring  their  cabals;  but  this  sub 
rosa — I  burn  not  my  fingers  with  these  matters. 
'  He  who  meddleth  with  another  man's  strifes,  taketh 
a  dog  by  the  ear,'  said  the  wisest  man  that  ever 
lived ;  and  he,  thank  God,  was  a  king.  Caution 
Will  against  all  vain  speculation  and  idle  inquiries : 
there  are  those  that  are  forever  inquiring  and  inqui- 
ring, and  never  coming  to  the  truth.  One  inquiry 
should  suffice  for  a  loyal  subject :  *  What  is  estab- 
lished V  and  that  being  weU  ajc&rtained^Jh  jine 
of  duty  is  so  plain,  that  he  who  runs  may  read. 

"I  would  that  all  our  youths  had  inscrlBeH  on 
their  hearts  that  golden  rule  of  political  religion, 
framed  and  well  maintained  by  our  good  Queen 
Elizabeth,  'No  man  should  be  suffered  to  decline, 
either  on  the  left  or  on  the  right  hand,  from  the 
drawn  line  limited  by  authority,  and  by  the  sover- 
eign's laws  and  injunctions.' 

-  "  Instead  of  such  healthy  maxims,  our  lads'  heads 
are  crammed  with  the  philosophy,  and  rhetoric,  and 
history  of  those  liberty-loving  Greeks  and  Romans. 
This  is  the  pernicious  lore  that  has  poisoned  our  ac- 
ademical fountains.  Libertj[^!  what  is  it  ?  Daughter 
of  Disloyalty,  and  mother  of  all  misrule,  who,  from 
the  hour  that  she  tempted  our  first  parents  to  forfeit 
Paradise,  hath  ever  worked  mischief  to  our  race. 

"  But,  above  all,  brother,  as  you  value  the  tempo- 
ral salvation  of  your  boy,  restrain  him  from  all  con- 
federacy, association,  or  even  acquaintance  with  the 
Puritans.  If  my  master  took  counsel  of  me,  he 
would  ship  these  mad  canting  fools  to  our  New- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  5 

England  colonies,  where  their  tender  consciences 
would  be  no  more  offended,  because,  forsooth,  a  pre- 
late saith  his  prayers  in  white  vestments,  and  w^here 
they  might  enjoy  with  the  savages  that  primitive 
equality  about  which  they  make  such  a  pother. 
God  forefend  that  our  good  lad  William  should  com- 
pany with  these  misdoers !  He  must  be  narrowly 
w^atched  ;  for,  as  I  hear,  there  is  a  neighbour  of 
yours,  one  Winthrop  (a  notable  gentleman,  too,  as 
they  say,  but  he  doth  grievously  scandalize  his  birth 
and  breeding),  who  hath  embraced  these  scurvy 
principles,  and  doth  magnify  them  with  the  authori- 
ty of  his  birth  and  condition,  and  hath  much  weight 
with  the  country.  There  is  in  Suffolk,  too,  as  I  am 
told,  one  Eliot,  a  young  zealot,  a  fanatical  incendi- 
ary, who  doth  find  ample  combustibles  in  the  gossip- 
ing matrons,  idle  maidens,  and  lawless  youth  who 
flock  about  him. 

"  These  are  dangerous  neighbours ;  rouse  yourself, 
brother  ;  give  over  your  idle  sporting  wdth  hawk  and 
hound,  and  watch  over  this  goodly  scion  of  ours — 
ours,  I  say;  but  I  forewarn  you,  no  daughter  or  guinea 
of  mine  shall  ever  go  to  one  who  is  infected  with 
this  spreading  plague." 

This  letter  was  too  explicit  to  be  misunderstood ; 
but,  so  far  from  having  the  intended  effect  of  awa- 
kening the  caution  of  the  expectant  of  fortune,  it 
rather  stimulated  the  pride  of  the  independent  coun- 
try gentleman.  He  permitted  his  son  to  follow  the 
bent  of  accident,  or  the  natural  course  of  a  serious, 
reflecting,  and  enthusiastic  temper.  Winthrop,  the 
A  2 


6  HOPE    LESLIE. 

future  governor  of  Massachusetts,  was  the  counsellor 
of  young  Fletcher,  and  Eliot,  the  "  apostle  of  New- 
England,"  his  most  intimate  friend.  These  were 
men  selected  of  Heaven  to  achieve  a  great  work. 
In  the  quaint  language  of  the  time,"  the  Lord  sifted 
three  nations  for  precious  seed  to  sow  the  wilderness." 

There  were  interested  persons  who  were  not  slow 
in  conveying  to  Sir  William  unfavourable  reports  of 
his  nephew,  and  the  young  man  received  a  summons 
from  his  uncle,  who  hoped,  by  removing  him  from 
the  infected  region,  to  rescue  him  from  danger. 

Sir  William's  pride  was  gratified  by  the  elegant 
appearance  and  graceful  deportment  of  his  nephew, 
"whom  he  had  expected  to  see  with  the  "  slovenly  and 
lawyer-like  carriage"  that  marked  the  scholars  of  the 
times.  The  pliant  courtier  was  struck  with  the  lofty 
independence  of  the  youth,  who  from  the  first  show^- 
ed  that  neither  frowns  nor  favour  would  induce  him 
to  bow  the  knee  to  the  idols  Sir  William  had  served. 
There  was  something  in  this  independence  that  awed 
the  inferior  mind  of  the  uncle.  To  him  it  was  an 
unknown,  mysterious  power,  which  he  knew  not  how 
to  approach,  and  almost  despaired  of  subduing. 
However,  he  was  experienced  in  life,  and  had  ob- 
served enough  of  human  infirmity  to  convince  him 
that  there  was  no  human  virtue  that  had  not  some 
•weak,  some  assailable  point.  Time  and  circum- 
stances were  not  long  in  developing  the  vulnerabil- 
ity of  the  nephew.  Alice  Fletcher  had  been  the 
companion  of  his  childhood.  They  now  met  without 
any  of  the  reserve  that  often  prevents  an  intimate  in- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  7 

tercourse  between  young  persons,  and  proceeds  from 
the  consciousness  of  a  susceptibility  which  it  would 
seem  to  deny. 

The  intercourse  of  the  cousins  was  renewed  with 
all  the  frankness  and  artlessness  of  the  sunny  season 
of  childish  love  and  confidence.  Alice  had  been 
educated  in  retirement  by  her  mother,  whom  she  had 
recently  attended  through  a  long  and  fatal  illness. 
She  had  been  almost  the  exclusive  object  of  her  love, 
for  there  was  little  congeniality  between  the  father 
and  daughter.  The  ties  of  nature  may  command  all 
dutiful  observances,  but  they  cannot  control  the  af- 
fections. Alice  was  deeply  afflicted  by  her  bereave- 
ment. Her  cousin's  serious  temper  harmonized  with 
her  sorrow,  and  nature  and  opportunity  soon  indis- 
solubly  linked  their  hearts  together. 

Sir  William  perceived  their  growing  attachment, 
and  exulted  in  it ;  for,  as  he  fancied,  it  reduced  his 
nephew  to  dependance  on  his  will  and  whims.  He 
had  never  himself  experienced  the  full  strength  of 
any  generous  sentiment,  but  he  had  learned  from  ob- 
servation that  love  was  a  controlling  passion,  and  he 
now  most  anxiously  watched  and  promoted  the  kin- 
dling of  the  flame,  in  the  expectation  that  the  fire 
would  subdue  the  principles  of  civil  and  religious  lib- 
erty with  which  he  had  but  too  well  ascertained  the 
mind  of  his  nephew  to  be  imbued. 

He  silently  favoured  the  constant  and  exclusive 
intercourse  of  the  young  people  :  he  secretly  con- 
trived various  modes  of  increasing  their  mutual  de- 
pendance; and,  when  he  was  certain  their  happi- 


»^^. 


8  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ness  was  staked,  he  cast  the  die.'  He  told  his  neph- 
ew that  he  perceived  and  rejoiced  in  the  mutual  af- 
fection that  had  so  naturally  sprung  up  between  him 
and  his  daughter,  and  he  confessed  their  union  had 
been  the  favourite  object  of  his  life ;  and  said  that 
he  now  heartily  accorded  his  consent  to  it,  prescri- 
bing one  condition  only — but  that  condition  was  un- 
alterable. "  You  must  abjure,  William,  in  the  pres- 
ence- of  witnesses,"  he  said,  "  the  fanatical  notions 
of  liberty  and  religion  with  which  you  have  been 
infected ;  you  must  pledge  yourself,  by  a  solemn 
oath,  to  unqualified  obedience  to  the  king,  and  ad- 
herence to  the  EstabUshed  Church :  you  shall  have 
time  enough  for  the  effervescence  of  your  young 
blood.  God  send  this  fermentation  may  work  off 
all  impurities.  Nay,  answer  me  not  now.  Take  a 
day — a  week — a  month  for  consideration;  for  on 
your  decision  depends  fortune  and  love,  or  the  al- 
ternative, beggary  and  exile." 

If  a  pit  had  yawned  beneath  his  feet  and  swal- 
lowed Alice  from  his  view,  William  Fletcher  could 
not  have  been  more  shocked.  He  was  soul-stricken, 
as  one  who  listens  to  a  sentence  of  death.  To  his 
eye  the  earth  was  shrouded  in  darkness;  not  an  ob- 
ject of  hope  or  pursuit  remained. 

He  had  believed  his  uncle  was  aware  of  what  he 
must  deem  his  poUtical  and  religious  delinquency; 
but  he  had  never  spoken  to  him  on  the  subject :  he 
had  treated  him  with  marked  favour,  and  he  had  so 
evidently  encouraged  his  attachment  to  his  cousin 
that  he  had  already  plighted  his  love  to  her,  and  re- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  9 

ceived  her  vows  without  fearing  that  he  had  passed 
even  the  limit  of  strict  prudence. 

There  was  no  accomnaodating  flexibihty  in  his  prin- 
ciples ;  his  fidelity  to  what  he  deemed  his  duty  could 
not  have  been  subdued  by  the  fires  of  martyrdom, 
and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  sacrifice  what  was  dearer 
than  life  to  it.  He  took  the  resolution  at  once  to  fly 
from  the  temptation  that,  present,  he  dared  not  trust 
himself  to  resist. 

"  I  shall  not  again  see  my  Alice,"  he  said.  "  I 
have  not  courage  to  meet  her  smiles  j  I  have  not 
strength  to  endure  her  tears." 

In  aid  of  his  resolution  there  came,  most  oppor- 
tunely, a  messenger  from  his  father,  requiring  his  im- 
mediate presence.  This  afforded  him  a  pretext  for 
his  sudden  departure  from  London.  He  left  a  few- 
brief  lines  for  Alice,  that  expressed  without  explain- 
ing the  sadness  of  his  heart. 

His  father  died  a  few  hours  before  he  arrived  at 
the  paternal  mansion.  He  was  thus  released  from 
his  strongest  natural  tie.  His  mother  had  been  long 
dead  ;  and  he  had  neither  brother  nor  sister.  He 
inherited  a  decent  patrimony,  sufficient  at  least  to 
secure  the  independence  of  a  gentleman.  He  im- 
mediately repaired  to  Groton,  to  his  friend  Win- 
throp;  not  that  he  should  dictate  his  duty  to  him, 
but  as  one  leans  on  the  arm  of  a  friend  when  he 
finds  his  own  strength  scarcely  sufficient  to  support 
him. 

Mr.  Winthrop  is  well  known  to  have  been  a  man 
of  the  most  tender  domestic  affections  and  sympa- 


10  HOPE    LESLIE. 

thies ;  but  he  had  then  been  long  married — and 
thrice  married — and  probably  a  little  dimness  had 
come  over  his  recollection  of  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
first  passion.  When  Fletcher  spoke  of  Alice's  une- 
qualled loveliness,  and  of  his  own  unconquerable 
love,  his  friend  listened  as  one  listens  to  a  tale  he 
has  heard  a  hundred  times,  and  seemed  to  regard 
the  cruel  circumstances  in  which  the  ardent  lover 
was  placed  only  in  the  light  of  a  providential  op- 
portunity of  making  a  sacrifice  to  the  great  and  good 
cause  to  which  this  future  statesman  had  even  then 
begun  to  devote  himself,  as  the  sole  object  of  his  life. 
He  treated  his  friend's  sufferings  as  in  their  nature 
transient,  and  concluded  by  saying,  "  the  Lord  hath 
prepared  this  fire,  my  friend,  to  temper  your  faith, 
and  you  will  come  out  of  it  the  better  prepared  for 
your  spiritual  warfare." 

Fletcher  listened  to  him  with  stern  resolution,  like 
him  who  permits  a  surgeon  to  probe  a  wound  which 
he  is  himself  certain  is  incurable. 

Mr.  Winthrop  knew  that  a  ship  was  appointed  to 
sail  from  Southampton  in  a  few  days  for  New-Eng- 
land. With  that  characteristic  zeal  Avhich  then 
made  all  the  intentions  of  Providence  so  obvious  to 
the  eye  of  faith,  and  the  interpretation  of  all  the 
events  of  life  so  easy,  Mr.  Winthrop  assured  his 
friend  that  the  designs  of  Heaven  in  relation  to  him 
were  plain.  He  said,  "  There  was  a  great  call  for 
such  services  as  he  could  render  in  the  expedition 
just  about  to  sail,  and  which  was  like  to  fail  for 
the  want  of  them ;  and  that  now,  like  a  faithful  ser- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  11 

vant  to  the  cause  he  had  confessed,  he  must  not  look 
behind,  but  press  on  to  the  things  that  were  before." 

Fletcher  obeyed  the  voice  of  Heaven. 

This  is  no  romantic  fiction.  Hundreds  in  that  day- 
resisted  all  that  solicits  earthly  passions,  and  sacri- 
ficed all  that  gratifies  them  to  the  cause  of  God  and 
of  man — the  cause  of  liberty  and  religion.  This 
cause  was  not  to  their  eyes  invested  with  any  roman- 
tic attractions.  It  was  not  assisted  by  the  illusions 
of  chivalry,  nor  magnified  by  the  spiritual  power  and 
renown  of  crusades.  Our  fathers  neither  had,  nor 
expected  their  reward  on  earth. 

One  severe  duty  remained  to  be  performed. 
Fletcher  must  announce  their  fate  to  Alice.  He 
honoured  her  too  much  to  believe  she  would  have 
permitted  the  sacrifice  of  his  integrity,  if  he  would 
have  made  it.  He,  therefore,  had  nothing  to  excuse ; 
nothing  but  to  tell  the  terrible  truth ;  to  try  to  recon- 
cile her  to  her  father ;  to  express,  for  the  last  time, 
his  love,  and  to  pray  that  he  might  receive,  at  South- 
ampton, one  farewell  line  from  her.  Accompanying 
his  letter  to  Ahce  was  one  to  Sir  WilUam,  announ- 
cing the  decision  to  resign  his  favour  and  exile 
himself  forever  from  England. 

He  arranged  his  affairs,  and  in  a  few  days  receiv- 
ed notice  that  the  vessel  was  ready  to  sail.  He  re- 
paired to  Southampton ;  and  as  he  was  quitting  the 
inn  to  embark  in  the  small  boat  that  was  to  convey 
him  to  the  vessel,  already  in  the  oflSng,  a  voice  from 
an  inner  apartment  pronounced  his  name,  and  at 
the  next  moment  Ahce  was  in  his  arms.     She  gen- 


12  HOPE    LESLIE. 

tly  reproved  him  for  having  estimated  her  affection 
at  so  low  a  rate  as  not  to  have  anticipated  that  she 
should  follow  him  and  share  his  destiny.  It  was 
more  than  could  have  been  expected  from  man  that 
Fletcher  should  have  opposed  such  a  resolution.  He 
had  but  a  moment  for  deliberation.  Most  of  the 
passengers  had  already  embarked ;  some  still  linger- 
ed on  the  strand,  protracting  their  last  farewell  to 
their  country  and  their  friends.  In  the  language  of 
one  of  the  most  honoured  of  these  pilgrims,  "  Truly 
doleful  was  the  sight  of  that  sad  and  mournful  part- 
ing, to  hear  what  sighs,  and  sobs,  and  prayers  did 
sound  among  them ;  what  tears  did  gush  from  every 
eye,  and  pithy  speeches  pierced  each  other's  hearts." 

With  the  weeping  group  Fletcher  left  Alice  and 
her  attendants,  while  he  went  to  the  vessel  to  prepare 
for  her  suitable  reception.  He  there  found  a  clergy- 
man, and  bespoke  his  holy  offices  to  unite  him  to  his 
cousin  immediately  after  their  embarcation. 

All  the  necessary  arrangements  were  made,  and 
he  was  returning  to  the  shore,  his  eye  fixed  on  the 
lovely  being  whom  he  believed  Heaven  had  inter- 
posed to  give  to  him,  when  he  descried  Sir  William's 
carriage,  guarded  by  a  cavalcade  of  armed  men,  in 
the  uniform  of  the  king's  guards,  approaching  the 
spot  where  she  stood. 

He  comprehended  at  once  their  cruel  purpose. 
He  exhorted  the  boatmen  to  put  forth  all  their 
strength ;  he  seized  the  oars  himself — despair  gave 
him  supernatural  power — the  boat  shot  forward  with 
the  velocity  of  light ;  but  all  in  vain !  he  only  ap- 


HOPE    LESLIE. 


13 


preached  near  enough  to  the  shore  to  hear  Ahce's 
last  impotent  cries  to  him ;  to  see  her  beautiful  face 
convulsed  ^vith  agony,  and  her  arms  outstretched  to- 
\vards  him,  when  she  was  forced  to  the  carriage  by 
her  father,  and  driven  from  his  sight. 

He  leaped  on  the  strand;  he  folio w^ed  tne  troop 
with  cries  and  entreaties ;  but  he  was  only  answered 
by  the  coarse  jeering  and  profane  jests  of  the  sol- 
diery. 

Notice  was  soon  given  that  the  boat  was  ready 
to  return  to  the  ship  for  the  last  time,  and  Fletcher, 
in  a  state  of  agitation  and  despair,  almost  amount- 
ing to  insanity,  permitted  it  to  return  without  him. 

He  went  to  London,  and  requested  an  interview 
with  his  uncle.  The  request  was  granted,  and  a  long 
and  secret  conference  ensued.  It  was  known  by 
the  servants  of  the  household  that  their  mistress, 
Alice,  had  been  summoned  by  her  father  to  this 
meeting,  but  what  was  said  or  done  did  not  trans- 
pire. Immediately  after.  Fletcher  returned  to  Mr. 
Winthrop's,  in  Suffolk.  The  fixedness  of  despair 
w^as  on  his  countenance;  but  he  said  nothing,  even 
to  this  confidential  friend,  of  the  interview  with  his 
uncle.  The  particulars  of  the  affair  at  Southampton, 
which  had  already  reached  Suffolk,  seemed  suffi- 
ciently to  explain  his  misery. 

In  less  than  a  fortnight  he  there  received  de- 
spatches from"  his  uncle,  informing  him  that  he  had 
taken  effectual  measures  to  save  himself  from  a  sec- 
ond conspiracy  against  the  honour  of  his  family; 
that  his  daughter  Alice  had  that  day  been  led  to 
Vol.  L— B 


14  HOPE    LESLIE. 

the  altar  by  Charles  Leslie ,  and  concluding  with  a 
polite  hope  that,  though  his  voyage  had  been  inter- 
rupted, it  might  not  be  long  deferred. 

Alice  had,  indeed,  in  the  imbecility  of  utter  de- 
spair, submitted  to  her  father's  commands.  It  was 
intimated  at  the  time,  and  reported  for  many  years 
after,  that  she  had  suffered  a  total  alienation  of  mind. 
To  the  world  this  was  never  contradicted,  for  she 
lived  in  absolute  retirement;  but  those  who  best 
knew  could  have  attested  that,  if  her  mind  had  de- 
parted from  its  beautiful  temple,  an  angelic  spirit 
had  entered  in  and  possessed  it. 

William  Fletcher  was  in  a  few  months  persuaded 
to  unite  himself  with  an  orphan  girl,  a  ward  of  Mr. 
Winthrop,  who  had,  in  the  eyes  of  the  elders,  all 
the  meek  graces  that  befitted  a  godly  maiden  and  du- 
tiful helpmate.  Fletcher  remained  constant  to  his 
purpose  of  emigrating  to  New-England,  but  he  did 
not  effect  it  till  the  year  1630,  when  he  embarked 
with  his  family  and  effects  in  the  ship  Arbella,  with 
Governor  Winthrop,  who  then,  for  the  first  time, 
went  to  that  land  where  his  name  will  ever  be  held 
in  affectionate  and  honourable  remembrance. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  l5 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  For  the  temper  of  the  brain  in  quick  apprehensions  and  acute 
judgments,  to  say  no  more,  the  most  High  and  Sovereign  God  hath 
not  made  the  Indian  inferior  to  the  European." — Roger  Williams. 

The  magnitude  of  the  enterprise  in  which  the  first  \ 
settlers  of  New-England  were  engaged,  the  terrific  I 
obstacles  they  encountered,  and  the  hardships  they  I 
endured,  gave  to  their  characters  a  seriousness  and  / 
solemnity,  heightened,  it  may  be,  by  the  severity  off 
their  religious  faith.  -^ 

Where  all  were  serious,  the  melancholy  of  an  in- 
dividual was  not  conspicuous;  and  Mr.  Fletcher's 
sadness  would  probably  have  passed  unnoticed  but 
for  the  reserve  of  his  manners,  which  piqued  the 
pride  of  his  equals,  and  provoked  the  curiosity  of  his 
inferiors. 

The  first  probably  thought  that  the  apostolic  prin- 
ciple of  community  of  goods  at  least  extended  to 
opinions  and  feelings ;  and  the  second  always  fancy, 
when  a  man  shuts  the  door  of  his  lips,  that  there  must 
be  some  secret  worth  knowing  within. 

Like  many  other  men  of  an  ardent  temperament 
and  disinterested  love  of  his  species,  Mr.  Fletcher 
was  disappointed  at  the  slow  operation  of  principles 
which,  however  efficient  and  excellent  in  the  abstract, 
were  to  be  applied  to  various  and  discordant  subjects. 
Such  men,  inexperienced  in  the  business  of  hfe,  are 


16  HOPE    LESLIE. 

like  children,  who,  setting  out  on  a  journey,  are  im- 
patient after  the  few  first  paces  to  be  at  the  end  of  it. 
They  cannot  endure  the  rebuffs  and  delays  that  re- 
tard them  in  their  course.  These  are  the  men  of 
genius — the  men  of  feeling — the  men  that  the  world 
calls  visionaries ;  and  it  is  because  they  are  visiona- 
ries— because  they  have  a  beau-ideal  in  their  own 
minds,  to  which  they  can  see  but  a  faint  resemblance 
in  the  actual  state  of  things,  that  they  become  impa- 
tient of  detail,  and  cannot  brook  the  slow  progress 
to  perfection.  They  are  too  rapid  in  their  anticipa- 
tions. The  character  of  man  and  the  institutions  of 
society  are  yet  very  far  from  their  possible  and  des- 
tined perfection.  Still,  how  far  is  the  present  age 
in  advance  of  that  which  drove  reformers  to  a  dreary 
wilderness !  which  hanged  Quakers !  which  con- 
demned to  death,  as  witches,  innocent,  unoffending- 
old  women  !  But  it  is  unnecessary  to  heighten  the 
glory  of  day  by  comparing  it  with  the  preceding 
twilight. 

To  return  to  Mr.  Fletcher.  He  w^as  mortified  at 
seeing  power,  which  had  been  earned  at  so  dear  a 
rate,  and  which  he  had  fondly  hoped  was  to  be  ap- 
plied to  the  advancement  of  man's  happiness,  some- 
times perverted  to  purposes  of  oppression  and  per- 
sorial  aggrandizement.  He  was  shocked  when  a  re- 
ligious republic,  which  he  fancied  to  be  founded  on 
the  basis  of  established  truth,  was  disturbed  by  the 
outbreak  of  heresies ;  and  his  heart  sickened  when  he 
saw  those  who  had  sacrificed  whatever  man  holds 
dearest  to  religious  freedom,  imposing  those  shackles 


HOPE    LESLIE.  17 

on  others  from  which  they  had  just  released  them- 
selves at  such  a  price.  Partly  influenced  by  these 
disgusts,  and  partly  by  that  love  of  contemplation 
and  retirement  that  belongs  to  a  character  of  his 
cast,  especially  when  depressed  by  some  early  disap- 
pointment, he  refused  the  offices  of  honour  and  trust 
that  were  from  time  to  time  offered  to  him ;  and 
finally,  in  1636,  when  Pynchon,  Holioke,  and  Chapin 
formed  their  settlement  at  Springfield,  on  Connecti- 
cut River,  he  determined  to  retire  from  the  growing 
community  of  Boston  to  this  frontier  settlement. 

Mrs.  Fletcher  received  his  decision  as  all  wives  of 
that  age  of  undisputed  masculine  supremacy  (or  most 
of  those  of  our  less  passive  age)  would  do,  with„meek 
submission.  The  inconveniences  and  dangers  of  that 
outpost  were  not  unknown  to  her,  nor  did  she  under- 
rate them  ;  but  Abraham  would  as  soon  have  remon- 
strated against  the  command  that  bade  him  go  forth 
from  his  father's  house  into  the  land  of  the  Chaldees, 
as  she  would  have  failed  in  passive  obedience  to  the 
resolve  of  her  husband. 

The  removal  was  effected  early  in  the  summer  of 
1636.  Springfield  assumed  at  once,  under  the  aus- 
pices of  its  wealthy  and  enterprising  proprietors,  the 
aspect  of  a  village.  The  first  settlers  followed  the 
course  of  the  Indians,  and  planted  themselves  on  the 
borders  of  rivers — the  natural  gardens  of  the  earth, 
where  the  soil  is  mellowed  and  enriched  by  the  an- 
nual overflov/ing  of  the  streams,  and  prepared  by  the 
unassisted  processes  of  nature  to  yield  to  the  indolent 
Indian  his  scanty  supply  of  maize  and  other  esculents. 
B    2 


18  HOPE    LESLIE. 

The  wigwams  which  constituted  the  village,  or,  to 
use  the  graphic  aboriginal  description,  the  "  smoke" 
of  the  natives,  gave  place  to  the  clumsy,  but  more 
convenient  dwellings  of  the  Pilgrims. 

Where  there  are  now  contiguous  rows  of  shops, 
filled  with  the  merchandise  of  the  East,  the  manu- 
factures of  Europe,  the  rival  fabrics  of  our  own  coun- 
try, and  the  fruits  of  the  tropics ;  where  now  stand 
the  stately  hall  of  justice,  the  academy,  the  bank, 
churches  orthodox  and  heretic,  and  all  the  symbols 
of  a  rich  and  populous  community,  were,  at  the  ear- 
ly period  of  our  history,  a  few  log  houses,  planted 
around  a  fort  defended  by  a  slight  embankment  and 
palisade. 

The  mansions  of  the  proprietors  were  rather  more 
spacious  and  artificial  than  those  of  their  more  hum- 
ble associates,  and  were  built  on  the  well-known 
model  of  the  moclest  dwelling  illustrated  by  the  birth 
of  Milton :  a  form  still  abounding  in  the  eastern  parts 
of  Massachusetts,  and  presenting  to  the  eye  of  a  New- 
Englander  the  familiar  aspect  of  an  awkward  friend- 
ly country  cousin. 

The  first  clearing  was  limited  to  the  plain.  The 
beautiful  hill  that  is  now  the  residence  of  the  gentry 
(for  there  yet  lives  such  a  class  in  the  heart  of  our 
democratic  community),  and  is  embellished  with 
stately  edifices  and  expensive  pleasure-grounds,  was 
then  the  border  of  a  dense  forest,  and  so  richly  frin- 
ged with  the  original  growth  of  trees  that  scarce  a 
sunbeam  had  penetrated  to  the  parent  earth. 

Mr.  Fletcher  was  at  first  welcomed  as  an  important 


HOPE    LESLIE.  19 

acquisition  to  the  infant  establishment ;  but  he  soon 
proved  that  he  purposed  to  take  no  part  in  its  con- 
cerns, and,  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  the  pro- 
prietors, he  fixed  his  residence  a  mile  from  the  vil- 
lage, deeming  exposure  to  the  incursions  of  the  sav- 
ages very  slight,  and  the  surveillance  of  an  inquiring 
neighbourhood  a  certain  evil.  His  domain  extend- 
ed from  a  gentle  eminence,  that  commanded  an  ex- 
tensive view  of  the  bountiful  Connecticut,  to  the 
shore,  where  the  river  indented  the  meadow  by  one 
of  those  sweeping  graceful  curves  by  which  it  seems 
to  dehght  to  beautify  the  land  it  nourishes. 

The  border  of  the  river  was  fringed  with  all  the  wa- 
ter-loving trees ;  but  the  broad  meadows  were  quite 
cleared,  excepting  that  a  few  elms  and  sycamores 
had  been  spared  by  the  Indians,  and  consecrated  by 
tradition  as  the  scene  of  revels  or  councils.  The 
house  of  our  pilgrim  was  a  low-roofed  modest  struc- 
ture, containing  ample  accommodation  for  a  patri- 
archal family ;  where  children,  dependants,  and  ser- 
vants were  all  to  be  sheltered  under  one  roof-tree. 
On  one  side,  as  we  have  described,  lay  anopenandyf^AV] 
extensive  plain;  within  view  was  the  curling  smoke  ^.^^ 
from  the  little  cluster  of  houses  about  the  forf — the 
h^itation  of  civilized  man  ;  but  all  else  was  a  sav- 
age  howling  wilderness.  ~v<^' 

"^Never  was  a  name  more  befitting  the  condition  of 
a  people  than  "  Pilgrim"  that  of  our  forefather.  It 
should  be  redeemed  from  the  puritanical  and  ludi- 
crous associations  which  have  degraded  it  in  most 
men's  minds,  and  be  hallowed  by  the  sacrifices  made 


■>ij 


20  HOPE    LESLIE. 

by  these  voluntary  exiles.  They  were  pilgrims,  for 
they  had  resigned  forever  what  the  good  hold  most 
dear — their  homes.  fHome  can  never  be  transferred ; 
never  repeated  in  the  experience  of  an  individual. 
The  place  consecrated  by  parental  love,  by  the  in- 
nocence and  sports  of  childhood,  by  the  first  ac- 
quaintance with  nature,  by  the  linking  of  the  heart 
to  the  visible  creation,  is  the  only  home.  There, 
there  is  a  living  and  breathing  spirit  infused  into  na- 
ture :  every  familiar  object  has  a  history  ;  the  trees 
have  tongues,  and  the  very  air  is  vocal.  There  the 
vesture  of  decay  doth  not  close  in  and  control  the 
noble  functions  of  the  soul.  It  sees,  and  hears,  and 
enjoys  without  the  ministry  of  gross  material  sub- 
stancerj 

Mr.  Fletcher  had  resided  a  few  months  in  Spring- 
field, when  he  one  day  entered,  with  an  open  letter 
in  his  hand,  that  apartment  of  his  humble  dwelling 
styled,  by  courtesy,  the  parlour.  His  wife  was  sit- 
ting there  with  her  eldest  son,  a  stripling  of  fourteen, 
busily  assisting  him  in  twisting  a  cord  for  his  cross- 
bow. She  perceived  that  her  husband  looked  dis- 
turbed ;  but  he  said  nothing,  and  her  habitual  defer- 
ence prevented  her  inquiring  into  the  cause  of  his 
discomposure. 

After  taking  two  or  three  turns  about  the  room, 
he  said  to  his  son,  "  Everell,  my  boy,  go  to  the  door, 
and  await  there  the  arrival  of  an  Indian  girl ;  she 
is,  as  you  may  see,  yonder  by  the  river  side,  and  will 
be  here  shortly.  I  would  not  that  Jennet  should,  at 
the  very  first,  shock  the  child  with  her  discourteous 


HOPE    LESLIE.  21 

"  Child  !  coming  here  !"  exclaimed  the  boy,  drop- 
ping his  bow  and  gazing  through  the  window. 
"  Who  is  she  1  that  tall  girl,  father :  she  is  no  more 
a  child  than  I  am  !" 

His  mother  smiled  at  an  exclamation  that  betrayed 
a  common  juvenile  jealousy  of  the  honour  of  dawn- 
ing manhood,  and  bade  the  boy  obey  his  father's  di- 
rections. When  Everell  had  left  the  apartment, 
Mr.  Fletcher  said,  "  I  have  just  received  letters  from 
Boston — from  Governor  Winthrop — "     He  paused. 

"  Our  friends  are  all  well,  I  hope,"  said  Mrs. 
Fletcher. 

"  Yes,  Martha,  our  friends  are  all  well ;  but  these 
letters  contain  something  of  more  importance  than 
aught  that  concerns  the  health  of  the  perishing 
body." 

Mr.  Fletcher  again  hesitated,  and  his  wife,  per- 
plexed by  his  embarrassment,  inquired,  "Has  poor 
deluded  Mrs.  Hutchinson  again  presumed  to  disturb 
the  peace  of  God's  people  ?" 

"  Martha,  you  aim  wide  of  the  mark.  My  pres- 
ent emotions  are  not  those  of  a  mourner  for  Zion. 
A  ship  has  arrived  from  England,  and  in  it  came — " 

"  My  brother  Stretton  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Fletcher. 

"  No,  no,  Martha.  It  will  be  long  ere  Stretton 
quits  his  paradise  to  join  a  suffering  people  in  the 
wilderness." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  and  when  he  again 
spoke,  the  softened  tone  of  his  voice  evinced  that  he 
was  touched  by  the  expression  of  disappointment, 
slightly  tinged  by  displeasure,  that  shaded  his  wife's 


22  HOPE    LESLIE. 

gentle  countenance.  "  Forgive  me,  my  dear  wife," 
he  said.  "  I  should  not  have  spoken  aught  that  im- 
plied censure  of  your  brother,  for  I  know  he  hath 
ever  been  most  precious  in  your  eyes ;  albeit,  not 
the  less  so  that  he  is  yet  without  the  fold.  That 
which  I  have  to  tell  you — and  it  were  best  that  it 
were  quickly  told — is,  that  my  cousin  Alice  was  a 
passenger  in  this  newly-arrived  ship.  Martha,  your 
blushes  wrong  you.  The  mean  jealousies  that  de- 
grade some  women  have,  I  am  sure,  never  been  har- 
boured in  your  heart." 

"  If  I  deserve  your  praise,  it  is  because  the  Lord 
has  been  pleased  to  purify  my  heart  and  make  it  his 
sanctuary.  But,  if  I  have  not  the  jealousies,  I  have 
the  feelings  of  a  woman,  and  I  cannot  forget  that 
you  was  once  affianced  to  your  cousin  Alice  ;  and — " 

"  And  that  I  once  told  you,  Martha,  frankly,  that 
the  affection  I  gave  to  her  could  not  be  transferred 
to  another.  That  love  grew  with  my  growth, 
strengthened  with  my  strength.  Of  its  beginning  I 
had  no  more  consciousness  than  of  the  commence- 
ment of  my  existence.  It  was  sunshine  and  flowers 
in  all  the  paths  of  my  childhood.  It  inspired  every 
hope,  modified  every  project;  such  was  the  love  I 
bore  to  Alice — love  immortal  as  the  soul ! 

"  You  know  how  cruelly  w^e  were  severed  at  South- 
ampton ;  how  she  was  torn  from  the  strand  by  the 
king's  guards,  within  my  view,  almost  within  my 
grasp.  How  Sir  William  tempted  me  with  the  offer 
of  pardon,  my  cousin's  hand,  and — poor  temptation 
indeed  after  that — honours,  fortune.     You  know  that 


HOPE    LESLIE.  23 

even  Alice,  my  precious,  beautiful  Alice,  knelt  to 
me.  That,  smitten  of  God  and  man,  and  for  the 
moment  bereft  of  the  right  use  of  reason,  she  would 
have  persuaded  me  to  yield  my  integrity.  You  know 
that  her  cruel  father  reproached  me  with  virtually 
breaking  my  plighted  troth.  That  many  of  my 
friends  urged  my  present  conformity ;  and  you  know", 
Martha,  that  there  was  a  principle  in  my  bosom  that 
triumphed  over  all  these  temptations.  And  think 
you  not  that  principle  has  preserved  me  faithful  in 
my  friendship  to  you?  Think  you  not  that  your 
obedience,  your  careful  conformity  to  my  wishes, 
your  steady  love,  which  hath  kept  far  more  than 
even  measure  with  my  deserts,  is  undervalued — can 
be  lightly  estimated  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  said  the  humble  wife,  "  that  your 
goodness  to  me  does  far  surpass  my  merit ;  but,  be- 
think you,  it  is  the  nature  of  a  woman  to  crave  the 
first  place." 

"  It  is  the  right  of  a  wife,  Martha ;  and  there  is 
none  now  to  contest  it  wdth  you.  This  is  but  the 
second  time  I  have  spoken  to  you  on  a  subject  that 
has  been  much  in  our  thoughts ;  that  has  made  me 
wayward,  and  would  have  made  my  sojourning  on 
earth  miserable,  but  that  you  have  been  my  support 
and  comforter.  These  letters  contain  tidings  that 
have  opened  a  long-sealed  fountain.  My  uncle.  Sir 
William,  died  last  January.  Leslie  perished  in  a 
foreign  service.  Alice,  thus  leleased  from  all  bonds, 
and  sole  mistress  of  her  fortunes,  determined  to  cast 
her  lot  in  the  heritage  of  God's  people.     She  em- 


24  HOPE    LESLIE. 

barked  with  her  two  girls,  her  only  children  ;  a  tem- 
pestuous voyage  proved  too  much  for  a  constitution 
already  broken  by  repeated  shocks.  She  was  fully 
aware  of  her  approaching  death,  and  died  as  befits 
a  child  of  faith,  in  sweet  peace.  Would  to  God  I 
could  have  seen  her  once  more;  but,"  he  added, 
raising  his  eyes  devoutly, "  not  my  will,  but  thine  be 
done !  The  sister  of  Leslie,  a  Mistress  Grafton,  at- 
tended Alice,  and  with  her  she  left  a  will,  commit- 
ting her  children  to  my  guardianship.  It  will  be  ne- 
cessary for  me  to  go  to  Boston  to  assume  this  trust. 
I  shall  leave  home  to-morrow,  after  making  suitable 
provision  for  your  safety  and  comfort  during  my  ab- 
sence. These  children  will  bring  additional  labour 
to  your  household;  and  in  good  time  hath  our 
thoughtful  friend.  Governor  Winthrop,  procured  for 
us  two  Indian  servants.  The  girl  has  arrived.  The 
boy  is  retained  about  the  little  Leslies,  the  young- 
est of  whom,  it  seems,  is  a  petted  child,  and  is  par- 
ticularly pleased  by  his  activity  in  ministering  to  her 
amusement. 

"I  am  glad  if  any  use  can  be  made  of  an  Indian 
servant,"  said  Mrs.  Fletcher,  who,  oppressed  with 
conflicting  emotions,  expressed  the  lightest  of  them 
— a  concern  at  a  sudden  increase  of  domestic  cares 
where  there  were  no  facilities  to  lighten  them. 

"  How  any  use !  You  surely  do  not  doubt,  Martha, 
that  these  Indians  possess  the  same  faculties  that  we 
do  1  The  girl  just  arrived,  our  friend  writes  me,  hath 
rare  gifts  of  mind,  such  as  few  of  God's  creatures  are 
endowed  with.     She  is  just  fifteen ;  she  understands 


HOPE    LESLIE.  25 

and  speaks  English  perfectly  well,  having  been 
taught  it  by  an  English  captive,  who  for  a  long 
time  dwelt  with  her  tribe.  On  that  account  she 
was  much  noticed  by  the  English  who  traded  with 
the  Pequods,  and,  young  as  she  was,  she  acted  as 
their  interpreter. 

"  She  is  the  daughter  of  one  of  their  chiefs  ;  and 
when  this  wolfish  tribe  were  killed,  or  dislodged  from 
their  dens,  she,  her  brother,  and  their  mother,  were 
brought,  with  a  few  other  captives,  to  Boston.  They 
were  given  for  a  spoil  to  the  soldiers.  Some,  by  a 
Christian  use  of  money,  were  redeemed  ;  and  others, 
I  blush  to  say  it,  for  *  it  is  God's  gift  that  every  man 
should  enjoy  the  good  of  his  own  labour,'  were  sent 
into  slavery  in  the  West  Indies.  Monoca,  the  moth- 
er of  these  children,  was  noted  for  the  singular  dig- 
nity and  modesty  of  her  demeanour.  Many  notable 
instances  of  her  kindness  to  the  white  traders  are 
recorded ;  and  when  she  was  taken  to  Boston,  our 
worthy  governor,  ever  mindful  of  his  duties,  assured 
her  that  her  good  deeds  were  held  in  remembrance, 
and  that  he  would  testify  the  gratitude  of  his  people 
in  any  way  she  should  direct.  *  I  have  nothing  to 
ask,'  she  said,  '  but  that  I  and  my  children  may  re- 
ceive no  personal  dishonour.' 

*'The  governor  redeemed  her  children,  and  as- 
sured her  they  should  be  cared  for.  For  herself, 
misery  and  sorrow  had  so  wrought  on  her  that  she 
w^as  fast  sinking  into  the  grave.  Many  Christian 
men  and  women  laboured  for  her  conversion,  but  she 
would  not  even  consent  that  the  Holy  Word  should 

Vol.  T.— C 


26  HOPE    LESLIE. 

be  interpreted  to  her ;  insisting,  in  the  pride  of  her 
soul,  that  all  the  children  of  the  Great  Spirit  were 
equal  objects  of  His  favour,  and  that  He  had  not 
deemed  the  book  he  had  withheld  needful  to  them." 

"  And  did  she,"  inquired  Mrs.  Fletcher,  "  thus 
perish  in  her  sins  ?" 

"  She  died,"  replied  her  husband,  "  immovably 
fixed  in  those  sentiments.  But,  Martha,  we  should 
not  suit  God's  mercy  to  the  narrow  frame  of  our 
thoughts.  This  poor  savage's  life,  as  far  as  it  has 
come  to  our  knowledge,  w^as  marked  with  innocence 
and  good  deeds ;  and  I  would  gladly  believe  that 
we  may  hope  for  her,  on  that  broad  foundation  laid 
by  the  apostle  Peter  :  '  In  every  nation,  he  that  fear- 
eth  God  and  worketh  righteousness  is  accepted  of 
Him.'  " 

"  That  text,"  answered  Mrs.  Fletcher,  her  heart 
easily  kindling  with  the  flame  of  charity,  "  is  a  light 
behind  many  a  dark  scripture,  like  the  sun  shining- 
all  around  the  edges  of  a  cloud  that  cannot  hide  all 
\  its  beams." 

"  Such  thoughts,  my  dear  wife,  naturally  spring 
from  thy  kind  heart,  and  are  sweet  morsels  for  pri- 
vate meditation ;  but  it  were  well  to  keep  them  in 
thine  ow^n  bosom,  lest,  taking  breath,  they  should 
lighten  the  fears  of  unstable  souls.  But  here  comes 
the  girl  Magawisca,  clothed  in  her  Indian  garb, 
which  the  governor  has  permitted  her  to  retain,  not 
caring,  as  he  wisely  says,  to  interfere  with  their  in- 
nocent  peculiarities ;  and  she,  in  particular,  having 


shown  a  loathmo-  of  the  English  dress. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  27 

Everell  Fletcher  now  threw  wide  open  the  parlour 
door,  inviting  the  Indian  girl,  by  a  motion  of  his 
hand  and  a  kind  smde,  to  follow.  She  did  so,  and 
remained  standing  beside  him,  with  her  eyes  riveted 
to  the  floor,  while  every  other  eye  was  turned  to- 
wards her.  She  and  her  conductor  were  no  unfit 
representatives  of  the  people  from  whom  they  sprung. 
Everell  Fletcher  was  a  fair,  ruddy  boy  of  four- 
teen ;  his  smooth  brow  and  bright  curling  hair  bore 
the  stamp  of  the  morning  of  life;  hope,  and  confi- 
dence, and  gladness  beamed  in  the  falcon  glance  of 
his  keen  blue  eye,  and  love  and  frolic  played  about 
his  lips.  The  active,  hardy  habits  £>f  life  in  a  new 
country  had  already  knit  his  frame  and  given  him 
the  muscle  of  m.anhood,  while  his  quick  elastic  step 
truly  expressed  the  untamed  spirit  of  childhood — the 
only  spirit  without  fear  and  without  reproach.  His 
dress  was  of  blue  cloth,  closely  fitting  his  person ; 
the  sleeves  reached  midway  between  the  elbow  and 
wrist,  and  the  naked  and,  as  it  would  seem  to  a  mod- 
ern eye,  awkward  space,  was  garnished  with  deep- 
pointed  lace  ruffles  of  a  coarse  texture;  a  ruff  or 
collar  of  the  same  material  was  worn  about  the  neck. 

The  Indian  stranger  was  tall  for  her  years,  which 
did  not  exceed  fifteen.  Her  form  was  slender,  flex- 
ible, and  graceful;  and  there  was  a  freedom  and 
loftiness  in  her  movement  which,  though  tempered 
with  modesty,  expressed  a  consciousness  of  high 
birth.  Her  face,  although  marked  by  the  peculiari- 
ties of  her  race,  was  beautiful  even  to  a  European 
eye.     Her  features  were  regular,  and  her  teeth  v.diite 


28  HOPE    LESLIE. 

as  pearls ;  but  there  must  be  something  beyond  sym- 
metry of  feature  to  fix  the  attention,  and  it  was  an 
expression  of  disunity,  thoughtfulness,_and_  deep jde- 
jection  that  macTe  the^ye  hnger  on  Map;awisca's 
face,  as  if  it  were  perusing  there  the  legible  record 
of  her  birth  and  wrongs.  Her  hair,  contrary  to  the 
fashion  of  the  Massachusetts  Indians,  was  parted  on 
her  forehead,  braided,  and  confined  to  her  head  by 
a  band  of  small  feathers,  jet  black,  and  interwoven, 
and  attached  at  equal  distances  by  rings  of  polished 
bone.  She  wore  a  waistcoat  of  deerskin,  fastened 
at  the  throat  by  a  richly-wrought  collar.  Her  arms, 
a  model  for  sculpture,  were  bare.  A  mantle  of  pur- 
ple cloth  hung  gracefully  from  her  shoulders,  and 
was  confined  at  the  waist  by  a  broad  band,  orna- 
mented with  rude  hieroglyphics.  The  mantle,  and 
her  strait  short  petticoat,  or  kilt,  of  the  same  rare 
and  costly  material,  had  been  obtained,  probably, 
from  the  English  traders.  Stockings  were  an  un- 
known luxury ;  but  leggins,  similar  to  those  worn 
by  the  ladies  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  court,  were  no 
bad  substitute.  The  moccasin,  neatly  fitted  to  a  del- 
icate foot  and  ankle,  and  tastefully  ornamented  with 
bead-work,  completed  the  apparel  of  this  daughter 
of  a  chieftain,  which  altogether  had  an  air  of  wild 
and  fantastic  grace,  that  harmonized  well  with  the 
noble  demeanour  and  peculiar  beauty  of  the  young 
savage. 

Mr.  Fletcher  surveyed  her  for  a  moment  with  a 
mingled  feeling  of  compassion  and  curiosity,  and 
then  turning  away  and  leaning  his  head  on  the  man- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  29 

telpiece,  his  thoughts  reverted  to  the  subject  that 
had  affected  him  far  more  deeply  than  he  had  ven- 
tured to  confess,  even  to  the  wife  of  his  bosom. 

Mrs.  Fletcher's  first  feeling  was  rather  that  of  a 
housewife  than  a  tender  woman.  "My  husband," 
she  thought,  "might  as  well  have  brought  a  wild 
doe  from  the  forest  to  plough  his  fields,  as  to  give 
me  this  Indian  girl  for  household  labour  ;  but  the 
wisest  men  have  no  sense  in  these  matters."  This 
natural  domestic  reflection  was  soon  succeeded  by  a 
sentiment  of  compassion,  which  scarcely  needed  to 
be  stimulated  by  Everell's  whisper  of  "  Do,  mother, 
speak  to  her." 

"  Magawisca,"  she  said,  in  a  friendly  tone,  "  you 
are  welcome  among  us,  girl."  Magawisca  bowed 
her  head.  Mrs.  Fletcher  continued  :  "  You  should 
receive  it  as  a  signal  mercy,  child,  that  you  have 
Been  taken  from  the  midst  of  a  savage  people,  and 
set  in  a  Christian  family."  Mrs.  Fletcher  paused  for 
her  auditor's  assent ;  but  the  proposition  was  either 
unintelligible  or  unacceptable  to  Magawisca. 

"  Mistress  Fletcher  means,"  said  a  middle-aged 
serving-woman  who  had  just  entered  the  room, 
"  that  you  should  be  mighty  thankful,  Tawney,  that 
you  are  snatched  as  a  brand  from  the  burning." 

"  Hush,  Jennet !"  said  Everell  Fletcher,  touching 
the  speaker  with  the  point  of  an  arrow  which  he 
held  in  his  hand. 

Magawisca's  eyes  had  turned  on  Jennet,  flashing 
like  a  sunbeam  through  an  opening  cloud.     Ever- 
ell's interposition  touched  a  tender  chord,  and  when 
C  2 


30  HOPE    LESLIE. 

she  again  cast  them  down,  a  tear  trembled  on  their 
lids. 

"You will  have  no  hard  service  to  do," said  Mrs. 
Fletcher,  resuming  her  address.  "  I  cannot  explain 
all  to  you  now  ;  but  you  will  soon  perceive  that  our 
civilized  life  is  far  easier,  far  better  and  happier 
than  your  wild  wandering  ways,  which  are,  indeed, 
as  you  will  presently  see,  but  little  superior  to  those 
of  the  wolves  and  foxes." 

Magawisca  suppressed  a  reply  that  her  heart  sent 
to  her  quivering  lips,  and  Everell  said,  "  Hunted, 
as  the  Indians  are,  to  their  own  dens,  I  am  sure, 
mother,  they  need  the  fierceness  of  the  wolf  and  the 
cunning  of  the  fox." 

"  True,  true,  my  son,"  replied  Mrs.  Fletcher,  who 
really  meant  no  unkindness  in  expressing  what  she 
deemed  a  self-evident  truth  ;  and  then,  turning  again 
to  Magawisca,  she  said,  in  a  gentle  tone, "  You  have 
had  a  long  and  fatiguing  journey — was  it  not,  girl  V 

"  My  foot,"  replied  Magawisca,  "  is  used  to  the 
wild-wood  path.  The  deer  tires  not  of  his  way  on 
the  mountain,  nor  the  bird  of  its  flight  in  the  air." 

She  uttered  her  natural  feeling  in  so  plaintive  a 
tone  that  it  touched  the  heart  like  a  strain  of  sad  mu- 
sic ;  and  when  Jennet  again  officiously  interposed  in 
the  conversation,  by  saying  that  "  Truly  these  sav- 
ages have  their  house  in  the  wilderness,  and  their 
way  no  man  knows,"  her  mistress  cut  short  her  out- 
pouring by  directing  her  to  go  to  the  outer  door,  and 
learn  who  it  was  that  Digby  was  conducting  to  the 
house. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  31 

A  moment  after,  Digby,  Mr.  Fletcher's  confiden- 
tial domestic,  entered  with  the  air  of  one  who  has 
important  intelligence  to  communicate.  He  was 
followed  by  a  tall,  gaunt  Indian,  who  held  in  his  hand 
a  deerskin  pouch.  "  Ha  !  Digby,"  said  Mr.  Fletch- 
er, "  have  you  returned  ?  What  say  the  Commis- 
sioners ?  Can  they  furnish  me  a  guide  and  attend- 
ants for  my  journey  ?" 

"  Yes,  an  please  you,  sir.  I  w^as  in  the  nick  of 
time,  for  they  were  just  despatching  a  messenger  to 
the  governor." 

"  On  what  account  ?" 

"  Why,  it's  rather  an  odd  errand,"  replied  Digby, 
scratching  his  head  with  an  awkward  hesitation. 
"  I  would  not  wish  to  shock  my  gentle  mistress,  who 
will  never  bring  her  feelings  to  the  queer  fashions  of 
the  New  World  ;  but  Lord's  mercy,  sir,  you  know  we 
think  no  more  of  taking  off  a  scalp  here  than  we  did 
of  shaving  our  beards  at  home." 

"  Scalp  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Fletcher.  "  Explain 
yourself,  Digby." 

The  Indian,  as  if  to  assist  Digby's  communication, 
untied  his  pouch,  and  drew  from  it  a  piece  of  dried 
and  shrivelled  skin,  to  which  hair,  matted  together 
with  blood,  still  adhered.  There  was  an  expression 
of  fierce  triumph  on  the  countenance  of  the  savage 
as  he  surveyed  the  trophy  with  a  grim  smile.  A 
murmur  of  indignation  burst  from  all  present. 

"  Why  did  you  bring  that  wretch  here  ?"  demand- 
ed Mr.  Fletcher  of  his  servant,  in  an  angry  tone. 

"  I  did  but  obey  Mr.  Pynchon,  sir.     The_thi%  is 


32  HOPE    LESLIE. 

an_abo_raination  to  the  soul  and  eye  of  a  Christian,  but 
it  has  to  be  taken  to  Boston  for  the  reward." 

"  What  reward,  Digby  ?" 

"  The  reward,  sir,  that  is  in  reason  expected  for 
the  scalp  of  the  Pequod  chief" 

As  Digby  uttered  these  last  words,  Magaw^isca 
shrieked  as  if  a  dagger  had  pierced  her  heart.  She 
darted  forward  and  grasped  the  arm  that  upheld  the 
trophy.  "  My  father  !  Mononotto  !"  she  screamed, 
in  a  voice  of  agony. 

"  Give  it  to  her — by  Heaven,  you  shall  give  it  to 
her,"  cried  Everell,  springing  on  the  Indian,  and  lo- 
sing all  other  thought  in  his  instinctive  sympathy  for 
Magaw^sca. 

"  Softly,  softly,  Mr.  Everell,"  said  Digby  ;  "  that 
is  the  scalp  of  Sassacus,  not  Mononotto.  The  Pe- 
quods  had  two  chiefs,  you  know." 

Magawisca  now  released  her  hold  ;  and,  as  soon 
as  she  could  again  command  her  voice,  she  said,  in 
her  own  native  language,  to  the  Indian, "  My  father — 
my  father — does  he  live  ?" 

"  He  does,"  answered  the  Indian,  in  the  same  di- 
alect ;  "  he  lives  in  the  wigwam  of  the  chief  of  the 
Mohawks." 

Magawnsca  w^as  silent  for  a  moment,  and  knit  her 
brows  as  if  agitated  with  an  important  deliberation. 
She  then  undid  a  bracelet  from  her  arm  and  gave  it 
to  the  Indian.  "  I  charge  ye,"  she  said,  "  as  ye  hope 
for  game  in  your  hunting-grounds,  for  the  sun  on 
yo]^  wigwam,  and  the  presence  of  the  Great  Spirit 
in  your  death-hour — I  charge  ye  to  convey  this  token 


HOPE    LESLIE.  33 

to  my  father.  Tell  him  his  children  are  servants  in 
the  house  of  his  enemies ;  but,"  she  added,  after  a 
moment's  pause,  "  to  whom  am  I  trusting  ?  to  the 
murderer  of  Sassacus,  my  father's  friend !" 

"  Fear  not,"  replied  the  Indian ;  "  your  errand 
shall  be  done.  Sassacus  was  a  strange  tree  in  our 
forests;  but  he  struck  his  root  deep,  and  lifted  his 
tall  head  above  our  loftiest  branches,  and  cast  his 
shadow  over  us,  and  I  cut  him  down.  I  may  not 
return  to  my  people,  for  they  called  Sassacus  broth- 
er, and  they  would  fain  avenge  him.  But  fear  not, 
maiden,  your  errand  shall  be  done." 

Mr.  Fletcher  observed  this  conference,  which  he 
could  not  understand,  with  some  anxiety  and  dis- 
pleasure, and  he  broke  it  off  by  directing  Jennet  to 
conduct  Magawisca  to  another  apartment. 

Jennet  obeyed,  muttering  as  she  went,  "  A  notable 
providence,  this,  concerning  the  Pequod  caitiff.  Even 
like  Adonibezek,  as  he  has  done  to  others  the  Lord 
hath  requited  him." 

Mr.  Fletcher  then  most  reluctantly  took  into  his 
possession  the  savage  trophy,  and  dismissed  the  In- 
dian, deeply  lamenting  that  motives  of  mistaken  pol- 
icy should  tempt  his  brethren  to  depart  from  the 
plainest  principles  of  their  religion. 


34  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  But  ah  !  who  can  deceive  his  destiny, 
Or  ween  by  warning  to  avoid  his  fate  ?" 

P'aikv  Quken. 

On  the  following  morning  Mr.  Fletcher  set  out  for 
Boston,  and,  escaping  all  perils  by  flood  and  field, 
arrived  there  at  the  expiration  of  nine  days,  having 
accomplished  the  journey,  now  the  affair  of  a  single 
day,  with  unusual  expedition. 

His  wards  were  accompanied  by  two  individuals, 
who  were  now,  with  them,  to  become  permanent 
members  of  his  family  :  Mrs.  Grafton,  the  sister  of 
their  father,  and  one  Master  Cradock,  a  scholar 
"skilled  in  the  tongues,"  who  attended  them  as  their 
tutor.  Mrs.  Grafton  was  a  widow,  far  on  the  shady 
side  of  fifty  ;  though,  as  that  was  a  subject  to  which 
she  never  alluded,  she  probably  regarded  age  with 
the  feelings  ascribed  to  her  sex,  that  being  the  last 
quality  for  which  womankind  would  wish  to  be  hon- 
oured, as  is  said  by  one  whose  satire  is  so  good-hu- 
moured that  even  its  truth  may  be  endured.  She 
was,  unhappily  for  herself,  as  her  lot  was  cast,  a 
zealous  adherent  to  the  Church  of  England.  Good 
people,  who  take  upon  themselves  the  supervisorship 
of|||j:ieir  neighbours'  consciences,  abounded  in  that 
age,  and  from  them  Mrs.  Grafton  received  frequent 


IIOFE    LESLIE.  bD 

exhortations  and  remonstrances.  To  these  she  uni- 
formly rephed,  "  That  a  faith  and  mode  of  religion 
that  had  saved  so  many,  was  good  enough  to  save 
her  ;"  "  that  she  had  received  her  belief,  just  as  it 
was,  from  her  father,  and  that  he,  not  she,  was  re- 
sponsible for  it."  Offensive  such  opinions  must 
needs  be  in  a  community  of  professed  reformers,  but 
the  good  lady  did  not  make  them  more  so  by  the 
obtrusiveness  of  over-wrought  zeal.  To  confess  the 
truth,  her  mind  was  far  more  intent  on  the  forms  of 
headpieces  than  modes  of  faith,  and  she  w^as  far 
more  ambitious  of  being  the  leader  of  fashion  than 
the  leader  of  a  sect.  She  would  have  contended 
more  earnestly  for  a  favourite  recipe  than  a  favour- 
ite dogma  ;  and  though  she  undoubtedly  believed 
"  a  saint  in  crape"  to  be  "  twice  a  saint  in  lawn,'* 
and  fearlessly  maintained  that  "  no  man  could  suit- 
ably administer  the  offices  of  religion  without 
^  gown,  surplice,  and  wig,' "  yet  she  chiefly  directed 
her  hostilities  against  the  puritanical  attire  of  the 
ladies  of  the  colony,  who,  she  insisted,  "did  most 
unnaturally  belie  their  nature  as  women,  and  their 
birth  and  bringing-up  as  gentlewomen,  by  their  ill- 
fashioned,  ill-sorted,  and  unbecoming  apparel."  To 
this  heresy  she  w^as  fast  gaining  proselytes ;  for,  if 
we  may  believe  the  "  simple  cobbler  of  Agawam," 
there  w^ere,  even  in  those  early  and  pure  days,  "  nu- 
giperous  gentle  dames  who  inquired  what  dress  the 
Queen  is  in  this  week."  The  contagion  spread  rap- 
idly ;  and  when  some  of  the  most  vigilant  and  zeal- 
ous sentinels  prbpos'ed~'that  the  preachers   shofld 


36  HOPE    LESLIE. 

make  it  the  subject  of  public  and  personal  reproof, 
it  was  whispered  that  the  scandal  was  not  limited  to 
idle  maidens,  but  that  certain  of  the  deacons'  wives 
were  in  it,  and  it  was  deemed  more  prudent  to  adopt 
gentle  and  private  measures  to  eradicate  the  evd ; 
an  evil  so  deeply  felt  as  to  be  bewailed  by  the  mer- 
ciless "  cobbler"  above  quoted  in  the  following  af- 
fecting terms  :  "  Methinks  it  would  break  the  hearts 
of  Englishmen  to  see  so  many  goodly  English  wom- 
en imprisoned  in  French  cages,  peeping  out  of  their 
hood-holes  for  some  men  of  mercy  to  help  them  with 
a  little  wit,  and  nobody  relieves  them.  We  have 
about  five  or  six  of  them  in  our  colony.  If  I  see 
any  of  them  accidentally,  I  cannot  cleanse  my  phan- 
sie  of  them  for  a  month  after." 

It  would  seem  marvellous  that  a  woman  like  Mrs. 
Grafton,  apparently  engrossed  with  the  world,  living 
on  the  foam  and  froth  of  life,  should  become  a  vol- 
untary exile  to  the  colonies  ;  but,  to  do  her  justice, 
she  was  kind-hearted  and  affectionate,  susceptible  of 
strong  and  controlling  attachment,  and  the  infant 
children  of  a  brother  on  whom  she  had  doted  out- 
weighed her  love  of  frivolous  pleasures  and  personal 
indulgence. 

She  certainly  believed  that  the  resolution  of  her 
sister  to  go  to  the  wilderness  had  no  parallel  in  the 
history  of  human  folly  and  madness ;  but,  the  reso- 
lution once  taken,  and,  as  she  perceived,  unconquer- 
able, she  made  her  own  destiny  conformable,  not 
without  some  restiffness,  but  without  serious  repi- 
lAg.    It  was  an  unexpected  shock  to  her  to  be  com- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  37 

pelled  to  leave  Boston  for  a  condition  of  life  not  only 
more  rude  and  inconvenient,  but  really  dangerous. 
Necessity ^Jiowever,  is  more  potent  than  philosophy, 
and  Mrs.  Grafton,  like  most  people,  submitted  with 
patience  to  an  inevitable  evil. 

As  "good  Master  Cradock"  was  a  man  rather 
acted  upon  than  acting,  we  shall  leave  him  to  be 
discovered  by  our  readers  as  the  light  of  others  falls 
on  him. 

Mr.  Fletcher  received  the  children — the  relicts  and 
gifts  of  a  woman  whom  he  had  loved  as  few  men 
can  love — with  an  intense  interest.  The  youngest, 
Mary,  was  a  pretty,  petted  child,  wayward  and  bash- 
ful. She  repelled  Mr.  Fletcher's  caresses,  and  ran 
away  from  him  to  shelter  herself  in  her  aunt's  arms ; 
but  Alice,  the  eldest,  seemed  instinctively  to  return 
the  love  that  beamed  in  the  first  glance  that  Mr. 
Fletcher  cast  on  her ;  in  that  brief,  eager  glance  he 
saw  the  living  and  beautiful  image  of  her  mother. 
So  much  w^as  he  impressed  wdth  the  resemblance, 
that  he  said,  in  a  letter  to  his  wife,  that  it  reminded 
him  of  the  heathen  doctrine  of  metempsychosis,  and 
he  could  almost  believe  the  spirit  of  the  mother  was 
transferred  to  the  bosom  of  the  child.  The  arrange- 
ment Mr.  Fletcher  made  for  the  transportation  of 
his  charge  to  Springfield  might  probably  be  traced 
to  the  preference  inspired  by  this  resemblance. 

He  despatched  the  little  Mary  with  her  aunt  and 
the  brother  of  Magawisca,  the  Indian  boy  Oneco, 
and  such  attendants  as  were  necessary  for  their  safe 
conduct,  and  he  retained  Alice  and  the  tutor  to  be 

Vol.  I.— D 

336033 


38  HOPE    LESLIE. 

the  companions  of  his  journey.  Before  the  children 
were  separated  they  were  baptized  by  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Cotton,  and,  in  commemoration  of  the  Christian 
graces  of  their  mother,  their  names  were  changed  to 
the  puritanical  appellations  of  Hope  and  Faith. 

Mr.  Fletcher  was  detained,  at  first  by  business  and 
afterward  by  ill  health,  much  longer  than  he  had 
expected,  and  the  fall,  winter,  and  earliest  months  of 
spring  wore  away  before  he  was  able  to  set  his  face 
homeward.  In  the  mean  time,  his  little  community 
at  Bethel  proceeded  more  harmoniously  than  could 
have  been  hoped  from  the  discordant  materials  of 
which  it  w^as  composed.  This  was  owing,  in  great 
part,  to  the  wise  and  gentle  Mrs.  Fletcher,  the  sun  of 
her  little  system;  all  were  obedient  to  the  silent  in- 
fluence that  controlled  without  being  perceived. 
The  following  letter  which  she  wrote  to  Mr.  Fletch- 
er just  before  his  return,  contains  some  important 
domestic  details. 

'•  Springfield,  1638. 

"  To  MY  GOOD  AND  HONOURED  HuSBAND  : 

"  Thy  kind  letter  v/as  duly  received  fourteen  days 
after  date,  and  was  most  welcome  to  me,  containing, 
as  it  does,  a  portion  of  that  stream  of  kindness  that 
is  ever  flowing  out  from  thy  bountiful  nature  towards 
me.  Sweet  and  refreshing  was  it,  as  these  gentle 
days  of  spring  after  our  sullen  winter.  Winter ! 
ever  disconsolate  in  these  parts,  but  made  tenfold 
more  dreary  by  the  absence  of  that  precious  light  by 
which  I  have  ever  been  cheered  and  jjjuided. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  39 

"  I  thank  thee  heartily,  my  dear  life,  that  thou  dost 
so  warmly  commend  my  poor  endeavours  to  do  well 
in  thy  absence.  I  have  truly  tried  to  be  faithful  to 
my  little  nesthngs,  and  to  cheer  them  with  notes  of 
gladness  when  I  have  drooped  inwardly  for  the  voice 
of  my  mate.  Yet  my  anxious  thoughts  have  been 
more  with  thee  than  with  myself;  nor  have  I  been 
unmindful  of  any  of  thy  perplexities  by  sickness  or 
otherwise,  but  in  all  thy  troubles  I  have  been  troub- 
led, and  have  ever  prayed  that,  whatever  might  be- 
tide me,  thou  mightst  return  in  safety  to  thy  desiring 
family. 

"  I  have  had  many  difficulties  to  contend  wuth  in 
"thy  absence,  of  which  I  have  forborne  to  inform  thee, 
deeming  it  the  duty  of  a  wife  never  to  disquiet  her 
husband  with  her  household  cares;  but  now  that, 
with  the  Lord's  permission,  thou  art  so  soon  to  be 
with  us,  I  would  fain  render  unto  thee  an  account  of 
my  stewardship,  knowing  that  thou  art  not  a  hard 
master,  and  wilt  consider  the  will,  and  not  the  weak- 
ness, of  thy  loving  wife. 

"  This  Dame  Grafton  is  strangely  out  of  place 
here — fitter  iov  a  parlour  bird  than  a  flight  into  the 
wilderness ;  and  but  that  she  cometh  commended  to  us 
as  a  widow — a  name  that  is  a  draught  from  the  Lord 
upon  every  Christian  heart — we  might  find  it  hard  to 
brook  her  light  and  worldly  ways.  She  raileth,  and 
yet,  I  think,  not  with  an  evil  mind,  but  rather  igno- 
rantly,  at  our  most  precious  faith,  and  hath  even  ven- 
tured to  read  aloud  from  her  book  of  Common  Prayer : 
an  offence  that  she  hath  been  prevented  from  re- 


40  HOPE    LESLIE. 

peating  by  the  somewhat  profane  jest  of  our  son  Ev- 
erell,  whose  love  of  mischief,  proceeding  from  the 
gay  temper  of  youth,  I  trust  you  will  overlook.  It 
was  a  few  nights  ago,  when  a  storm  was  raging, 
that  th?  poor  lady's  fears  were  greatly  excited.  My 
womanish  apprehensions  had  a  hard  struggle  with 
my  duty,  so  terrific  was  the  hideous  howUng  of  the 
wolves,  mingling  with  the  blasts  that  swept  through 
the  forest;  but  I  stilled  my  beating  heart  with  the 
thought  that  my  children  leaned  on  me,  and  I  must 
not  betray  my  weakness.  But  Dame  Grafton  was 
beside  herself.  At  one  moment  she  fancied  we 
should  be  the  prey  of  the  wild  beast,  and  at  the  next, 
that  she  heard  the  alarm  yell  of  the  savages.  Ev- 
erell  brought  her  her  prayer-book,  and,  affecting  a 
well-beseeming  gravity,  begged  her  to  look  out 
the  prayer  for  distressed  women  in  imminent  danger 
of  being  scalped  by  North  American  Indians.  The 
poor  lady,  distracted  with  terror,  seized  the  book, 
and  turned  over  leaf  after  leaf,  Everell,  meanwhile, 
affecting  to  aid  her  search.  In  vain  I  shook  my  head 
reprovingly  at  the  boy ;  in  vain  I  assured  Mistress 
Grafton  that  I  trusted  we  were  in  no  danger;  she 
was  beyond  the  influence  of  reason ;  nothing  allayed 
her  fears,  till,  chancing  to  catch  a  glance  of  EverelPs 
eye,  she  detected  the  lurking  laughter,  and  rapping 
him  soundly  over  the  ears  with  her  book,  she  left  the 
room  greatly  enraged.  I  grieve  to  add,  that  Ever- 
ell evinced  small  sorrow  for  his  levity,  though  I  ad- 
monished him  thereupon.  At  the  same  time  I  thought 
it  a  fit  occasion  to  commend  the  sagacity  whereby 


HOPE    LESLIE.  41 

he  had  detected  the  shortcomings  of  written  pray- 
ers, and  to  express  my  hope  that,  unpromising  as 
his  beginnings  are,  he  may  prove  a  son  of  Jacob  that 
shall  wrestle  and  prevail. 

"  I  have  something  farther  to  say  of  Everell,  who 
is,  in  the  main,  a  most  devoted  son,  and,  as  I  believe, 
an  apt  scholar ;  as  his  master  telleth  me  that  he 
readeth  Latin  like  his  mother  tongue,  and  is  well 
grounded  in  the  Greek.  The  boy  doth  greatly  af- 
fect the  company  of  the  Pequod  girl  Magawisca. 
If,  in  his  studies,  he  meets  with  any  trait  of  heroism 
(and  with  such,  truly,  her  mind  doth  seem  naturally 
to  assimilate),  he  straightway  calleth  for  her,  and 
rendereth  it  into  English,  in  which  she  hath  made 
such  marvellous  progress  that  I  am  sometimes  star- 
tled with  the  beautiful  forms  in  which  she  clothes 
her  simple  thoughts.  She,  in  her  turn,  doth  take 
much  delight  in  describing  to  him  the  customs  of  her 
people,  and  relating  their  traditionary  tales,  which 
are,  like  pictures,  captivating  to  a  youthful  imagina- 
tion. He  hath  taught  her  to  read,  and  reads  to  her 
Spenser's  rhymes,  and  many  other  books  of  the  like 
kind,  of  which,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  Dame  Grafton 
hath  brought  hither  stores.  I  have  not  forbidden 
him  to  read  them,  well  knowing  that  the  appetite  of 
youth  is  often  whetted  by  denial,  and  fearing  that 
the  boy  might  be  tempted  secretly  to  evade  ray  au- 
thority ;  and  I  would  rather  expose  him  to  all  the 
mischief  of  this  unprofitable  lore,  than  to  tempt  him 
to  a  deceit  that  might  corrupt  the  sweet  fountain  of 
truth — the  well-spring  of  all  that  is  good  and  noble. 
D  2 


42  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  I  have  gone  far  from  my  subject.  When  my 
boy  comes  before  my  mind's  eye,  I  can  see  no  other 
object.  But  to  return.  I  have  not  been  unmindful 
of  my  duty  to  the  Indian  girl,  but  have  endeavoured 
to  instil  into  her  mind  the  first  principles  of  our  re- 
ligion, as  contained  in  Mr.  Cotton's  Catechism  and 
elsewhere.  But,_ala^Llo  these  her  eye  is  shut  and 
her  ear  is  closed,  not  only  with  that  blindness  and 
f*  7  deafness  common  to  the  natural  man,  but  she  enter- 
lameth  an  aversion,  which  has  the  fixedness  of  prin- 
ciple, and  doth  continually  remind  me  of  Hannibal's 
hatred  to"  Rome,  and  is,  like  that,  inwrought  with 
her  filial  piety.  I  have  in  vain  attempted  to  subdue 
her  to  the  drudgery  of  domestic  service,  and  make 
her  take  part  with  Jennet ;  but  as  hopefully  might 
you  yoke  a  deer  with  an  ox.  It  is  not  that  she  lacks 
obedience  to  me :  so  far  as  it  seems  she  can  com- 
mand her  duty,  she  is  ever  complying;  but  it  ap- 
peareth  impossible  to  her  to  clip  the  wings  of  her 
soaring  thoughts,  and  keep  them  down  to  household 
matters. 

"  I  have  sometimes  marvelled  at  the  providence 
of  God,  in  bestowing  on  this  child  of  the  forest  such 
rare  gifts  of  mind,  and  other  and  outward  beauties. 
Her  voice  hath  a  natural,  deep,  and  most  sweet  mel- 
ody in  it,  far  beyond  any  stringed  instrument.  She 
hath,  too  (think  not  that  I,  like  Everell,  am,  as 
Jennet  saith,  a  charmed  bird  to  her) — she  halh, 
though  yet  a  child  in  years,  that  in  her  mien  that 
doth  bring  to  mind  the  lofty  Judith  and  the  gracious 
Esther.     When  I  once  said  this  to  Everell,  he  re- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  43 

plied,  ^  Oh,  mother !  is  she  not  more  like  the  gentle 
and  tender  Ruth  V  To  him  she  may  be,  and  there- 
fore it  is  that,  innocent  and  safe  as  the  intercourse 
of  these  children  now  is,  it  is  for  thee  to  decide 
whether  it  be  not  most  wise  to  remove  the  maiden 
from  our  dwelling.  Two  young  plants  that  have 
sprung  up  in  close  neigbourhood  may  be  separated 
while  young,  but  if  disjoined  after  their  fibres  are  all 
intertwined,  one,  or  perchance  both,  may  perish. 

"  Think  not  that  this  anxiety  springs  from  the  mis- 
taken fancy  of  a  woman,  that  love  is  the  natural 
channel  for  all  the  purposes,  thoughts,  hopes,  and 
feelings  of  humanity.  Neither  think,  I  beseech  thee, 
that,  doting  with  a  foolish  fondness  upon  my  noble 
boy,  I  magnify  into  importance  whatsoever  concern- 
eth  him.  No :  my  heart  yearneth  towards  this  poor 
heathen  orphan-girl  3  and  when  I  see  her,  in  his  ab- 
sence, starting  at  every  sound,  and  her  restless  eye 
turning  an  asking  glance  at  every  opening  of  the  door, 
every  movement  betokening  a  disquieted  spirit,  and 
then  the  sweet  contentment  that  stealeth  over  her  face 
when  he  appeareth — oh,  my  honoured  husband  !  all 
my  woman's  nature  feeleth  for  her  5  not  for  any 
present  evil,  but  for  what  may  betide. 

"  Having  commended  this  subject  to  thy  better  wis- 
dom, I  will  leave  caring  for  it  to  speak  to  thee  of 
others  of  thy  household.  Your  three  little  girls  are 
thriving  mightily  ;  and  as  to  the  baby,  you  will  not 
be  ashamed  to  own  him,  though  you  will  not  rec- 
ognise, in  the  bouncing  boy  that  plays  bo-peep  and 
creeps  quite  over  the  room,  the  little  creature  who 


44  HOPE    LESLIE. 

had  scarcely  opened  his  eyes  on  the  world  when  you 
went  away.  He  is  by  far  the  largest  child  I  ever 
had,  and  the  most  knowing ;  he  has  cut  his  front 
upper  teeth,  and  showeth  signs  of  two  more.  He 
is  surprisingly  fond  of  Oneco,  and  clappeth  his  hands 
with  joy  whenever  he  sees  him.  Indeed,  the  boy  is 
a  favourite  with  all  the  young  ones,  and  greatly  aid- 
eth  me  by  continually  pleasuring  them.  Hejsjar 
different  from  his  sister — gay  and  volatile,  giving 
scarcely  one  thought  to  the  past,  and  not  one  care 
to  the  future.  His  sister  often  taketh  him  apart  to 
discourse  with  him,  and  sometimes  doth  produce  a 
cast  of  seriousness  over  his  countenance ;  but  at  the 
next  presented  object,  it  vanisheth  as  speedily  as  a 
shadow  before  a  sunbeam.  He  hath  commended 
himself  greatly  to  the  favour  of  Dame  Grafton  by 
his  devotion  to  her  little  favourite :  a  spoiled  child 
is  she,  and  it  seemeth  a  pity  that  the  name  of  Faith 
was  given  to  her,  since  her  shrinking,  timid  charac- 
ter doth  not  promise,  in  any  manner,  to  resemble 
that  most  potent  of  the  Christian  graces.  Oneco 
hath  always  some  charm  to  lure  her  waywardness. 
He  bringeth  home  the  treasures  of  the  woods  to 
please  her — berries,  and  wild  flowers,  and  the  beau- 
tiful plumage  of  birds  that  are  brought  down  by  his 
unerring  aim.  Everell  hath  much  advantage  from 
the  wood-craft  of  Oneco :  the  two  boys  daily  enrich 
our  table,  which,  in  truth,  hath  need  of  such  helps, 
with  the  spoils  of  the  air  and  water. 

"  I  am  grieved  to  tell  thee  that  some  misrule  hath 
crept  in  among  thy  servants  in  thy  absence.     Alas, 


HOPE   LESLIE.  45 

what  are  sheep  without  their  shepherd !  Digby  is, 
as  ever,  faithful — not  serving  with  eye-service ;  but 
Hutton  hath  consorted  much  with  some  evil-doers, 
who  have  been  violating  the  law  of  God  and  the  law 
of  our  land,  by  meeting  together  in  merry  compa- 
nies, playing  cards,  dancing,  and  the  like.  For  these 
offences  they  were  brought  before  Mr.  Pynchon,  and 
sentenced  to  receive,  each, '  twenty  stripes  well  laid 
on.'  Hutton  furthermore,  having  been  overtaken 
witii  drink,  was  condemned  to  wear,  suspended 
around  his  neck,  for  one  month,  a  bit  of  wood  on 
which  Toper  is  legibly  written ;  and  Darby,  who  is 
ever  a  dawdler,  having  gone,  last  Saturday,  with 
the  cart  to  the  village,  dilly-dallied  about  there,  and 
did  not  set  out  on  his  return  till  the  sun  was  quite 
down,  both  to  the  eye  and  by  the  calendar.  Ac- 
cordingly, early  on  the  following  Monday  he  was 
summoned  before  Mr.  Pynchon,  and  ordered  to  re- 
ceive ten  stripes ;  but  by  reason  of  his  youth  and  my 
intercession,  which,  being  by  a  private  letter,  doubt- 
less had  some  effect,  the  punishment  was  remitted ; 
whereupon  he  heartily  promised  amendment  and  a 
better  carriage. 

"  There  hath  been  some  alarm  here  within  the 
last  few  days,  on  account  of  certain  Indians  who 
have  been  seen  lurking  in  the  woods  around  us. 
They  are  reported  not  to  have  a  friendly  appearance. 
We  have  been  advised  to  remove,  for  the  present,  to 
the  Fort ;  but,  as  I  feel  no  apprehension,  I  shall  not 
disarrange  my  family  by  taking  a  step  that  would 
savour  more  of  fear  than  prudence.    I  say  I  feel  no 


46  HOPE    LESLIE. 

apprehension ;  yet  I  must  confess  it,  I  have  a  cow- 
ardly, womanish  spirit,  and  fear  is  set  in  motion  by 
the  very  mention  of  danger.  There  are  vague  fore- 
bodings hanging  about  me,  and  I  cannot  drive  them 
away  even  by  the  thought  that  your  presence,  my 
honoured  husband,  will  soon  reheve  me  from  all  agi- 
tating apprehensions,  and  repair  all  the  faults  of  my 
poor  judgment.  Fearful  thoughts  press  on  me ;  un- 
toward accidents  have  prolonged  thy  absence ;  our 
reunion  may  yet  be  far  distant;  and  if  it  should 
never  chance  in  this  world,  oh  remember,  that  if  I 
have  fallen  far  short  in  duty,  the  measure  of  my 
love  hath  been  full.  I  have  ever  known  that  mine 
was  Leah's  portion ;  that  Twas  not  the  chosen  and 
the  loved  one ;  and  this  has  sometimes  made  me  fear- 
ful, often  joyless  ;  but  remember,  it  is  only  the  per- 
fect love^qf  the  husband  that  casteth  out  the  fear  of 
the  wife. 

. "  I  have  one  request  to  prefer  to  thee,  which  I  have 
lacked  courage  to  make  by  word  of  mouth,  and 
therefore  now  commend  it  by  letter  to  thy  kindness. 
Be  gracious  unto  me,  my  dear  husband,  and  deem 
not  that  I  overstep  the  modest  bound  of  .a  woman's 
right  in  meddling  with  that  which  is  thy  prerogative 
— the  ordering  of  our  eldest  son's  education.  Everell 
here  hath  few  except  spiritual  privileges.  God,  who 
seeth  my  heart,  knoweth  I  do  not  undervalue  these 
— 'the  manna  of  the  wilderness.  Yet  to  them  might 
be  added  worldly  helps,  to  aid  the  growth  of  the 
boy's  noble  gifts,  a  kind  Providence  having  opened 
a  wide  door  therefor  in  the  generous  offer  of  my 


HOPE    LESLIE.  47 

brother  Stretton.  True,  he  hath  not  attained  to  our 
light,  whereby  manifold  errors  of  Church  and  State 
are  made  visible,  yet  he  hath  ever  borne  himself 
uprightly,  and  to  us  most  lovingly ;  and  as  I  remem- 
ber there  was  a  good  Samaritan  and  a  faithful  cen- 
turion, I  think  we  are  permitted  to  enlarge  the 
bounds  of  our  charity  to  those  who  work  righteous- 
ness, albeit  not  of  our  communion. 

"  Thou  hast  already  sown  the  good  seed  in  our 
boy's  heart,  and  it  hath  been  (I  say  it  not  presuming- 
ly)  nurtured  with  a  mother's  tears  and  prayers.  Trust, 
then,  to  the  promised  blessing,  and  fear  not  to  per- 
mit him  to  pass  a  few  years  in  England,  whence  he 
wdll  return  to  be  a  crown  of  glory  to  thee,  my  hus- 
band, and  a  blessing  and  honour  to  our  chosen  coun- 
try. Importunity,  I  know,  is  not  beseeming  in  a 
wife  'j  it  is  the  instrument  of  weakness,  whereby,  like 
the  mouse  in  the  fable,  she  would  gnaw  away  what 
she  cannot  break.  I  will  not,  therefore,  urge  thee 
farther,  but  leave  the  decision  to  thy  wisdom  and  thy 
love.  And  now,  my  dear  husband,  I  kiss  and  em- 
brace thee  J  and  may  God  company  with  thee,  and 
restore  thee,  if  it  be  his  good  pleasure,  to  thy  ever 
faithful,  and  loving,  and  obedient  wife, 

"  Martha  Fletcher. 

"  To  her  honoured  husband  these  be  delivered." 

The  above  letter  may  indicate,  but  it  feebly  ex- 
presses, the  character  and  state  of  mind  of  the  wri- 
ter. She  never  magnified  her  love  by  words,  but 
expressed  it  by  that  self-devoting,  self-sacrificing  con- 


48  HOPE   LESLIE. 

duct  to  her  husband  and  children,  which  character- 
izes, in  all  ages  and  circumstances,  faithful  and  de- 
voted woman.  She  was  too  generous  to  communi- 
cate all  her  fears  (about  which  a  woman  is  general- 
ly least  reserved)  to  her  husband. 

Some  occurrences  of  the  preceding  day  had  given 
her  just'  cause  of  alarm.  At  a  short  distance  from 
Bethel  (the  name  that  Mr.  Fletcher  had  given  his 
residence)  there  lived  an  old  Indian  woman,  one  of 
the  few  survivers  of  a  tribe  who  had  been  faithful 
allies  of  the  Pequods.  After  the  destruction  of  her 
people,  she  had  strayed  up  the  banks  of  the  Con- 
necticut, and  remained  in  Springfield.  She  was  in 
the  habit  of  supplying  Mrs.  Fletcher  with  wild  ber- 
ries and  herbs,  and  receiving  favours  in  return,  and 
on  that  day  went  thither,  as  it  appeared,  on  her  cus- 
tomary errand.  She  had  made  her  usual  barter,  and 
had  drawn  her  blanket  around  her  as  if  to  depart, 
but  still  she  lingered,  standing  before  Mrs.  Fletcher, 
and  looking  fixedly  at  her.  Mrs.  Fletcher  did  not 
at  first  observe  her  ;  her  head  was  bent  over  her  in- 
fant sleeping  on  her  lap,  in  the  attitude  of  listening 
to  its  soft  breathing.  As  she  perused  its  innocent 
face,  a  mother's  beautiful  visions  floated  before  her ; 
but  as  she  raised  her  eye,  and  met  the  piercing  glance 
of  the  old  woman,  a  dark  cloud  came  over  the  clear 
heaven  of  her  thoughts.  Nelema's  brow  was  con- 
tracted, her  lips  drawn  in,  and  her  little  sunken  eye 
gleamed  like  a  diamond  from  its  dark  recess. 

"  Why  do  you  look  at  my  baby  thus  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  Fletcher. 

\ 


HOPE    LESLIE.  49 

The  old  woman  replied  in  her  own  dialect,  in  a 
hurried,  inarticulate  manner.  "  What  says  she, 
Magawisca  V  asked  Mrs.  Fletcher  of  the  Indian  girl, 
who  stood  beside  her,  and  seemed  to  listen  with  un- 
wonted interest. 

"  She  says,  madam,  the  baby  is  like  a  flower  just 
opened  to  the  sun,  with  no  stain  upon  it  ',  th^t  he 
better  pass  now  to  the  Great  Spirit.  She  says  this 
world  is  all  a  rough  place — all  sharp  stones,  and  deep 
waters,  and  black  clouds !" 

"  Oh,  she  is  old,  IMagawisca,  and  the  days  haA'e 
come  to  her  that  have  no  pleasure  in  them.  Look 
there,"  she  said, "  Nelema,  at  my  son  Everell !" — the 
boy  was  at  the  moment  passing  the  window,  flushed 
with  exercise,  and  triumphantly  displaying  a  string 
of  game  that  he  had  just  brought  from  the  forest — 
"  is  there  not  sunshine  in  my  boy's  face  ?  To  him 
every  day  is  bright,  and  every  path  is  smooth." 

"  Ah  !"  replied  the  old  woman,  with  a  heavy 
groan,  "  I  had  sons  too,  and  grandsons ;  but  where 
are  they  ?  They  trod  the  earth  as  lightly  as  that 
boy ;  but  they  have  fallen,  like  our  forest  trees,  be- 
fore the  stroke  of  the  English  axe.  Of  all  my  race, 
there  is  not  one  nov\^  in  whose  veins  my  blood  runs. 
Sometimes,  when  the  spirits  of  the  storm  are  howl- 
ing about  my  v/igwam,  I  hear  the  voices  of  my  chil- 
dren crying  for  vengeance,  and  then  I  could  myself 
deal  the  death-blow."  Nelema  spoke  with  vehe- 
mence and  wild  gestures  ;  and  her  language,  though 
interpreted  by  Magawisca's  soft  voice,  had  little  ten- 
dency to  allay  the  feeling  her  manner  inspired.   Mrs. 

Vol.  L— E 


50  KOPE    LESLIE* 

Fletcher  recoiled  from  her,  and  instinctively  drew 
her  baby  closer  to  her  breast. 

«  Nay,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  fear  me  not ;  I  have 
had  kindness  from  thee ;  thy  blankets  have  warmed 
me,  I  have  been  fed  from  thy  table,  and  drank  of 
thy  cup ;  and  what  is  this  arm,"  and  she  threw  back 
her  Wanket,  and  stretched  out  her  naked,  shrivelled, 
trembling  arm,  "  what  is  this  to  do  the  work  of  ven- 
geance 1" 

She  paused  for  an  mstant,  glanced  her  eye  wildly 
around  the  room,  and  then  again  fixed  it  on  Mrs. 
Fletcher  and  her  infant.  "  They  spared  not  our 
homes,"  she  said  ;  "  there,  where  our  old  men  spoke, 
where  was  heard  the  song  of  the  maiden  and  the 
laugh  of  our  children,  there  now  all  is  silence,  dust, 
and  ashes.  I  can  neither  harm  thee  nor  help  thee. 
When  the  stream  of  vengeance  rolls  over  the  land, 
the  tender  shoot  must  be  broken,  and  the  goodly  tree 
uprooted  that  gave  its  pleasant  shade  and  fruits  to 
all." 

"  It  is  a  shame  and  a  sin,"  said  Jennet,  who  en- 
tered the  room  just  as  Magawisca  was  conveying 
Nelema's  speech  to  Mrs.  Fletcher,  "  a  crying  shame, 
for  this  heathen  hag  to  be  pouring  forth  here  as  if 
she  were  gifted  like  the  prophets  of  old — she  that 
can  only  see  into  the  future  by  reading  the  devil's 
book ;  and,  if  that  be  the  case,  as  more  than  one  has 
mistrusted,  it  were  best  forthwith  to  deliver  her  to 
the  judges,  and  cast  her  into  prison." 

"  Peace,  Jennet,"  said  Mrs.  Fletcher,  alarmed  less 
Nelema  should  hear  her,  and  her  feelings,  which 


HOPE   LESLIE.  61 

were  then  at  an  exalted  pitch,  should  be  wrought  to 
phrensy;  but  her  apprehensions  were  groundless;  the 
old  woman  saw  nothing  but  the  visions  of  her  ima- 
gination ;  heard  nothing  but  the  fancied  voices  of  the 
spirits  of  her  race.  She  continued  for  a  few  moments 
to  utter  her  thoughts  in  low,  articulate  murmurs, 
and  then,  without  again  addressing  Mrs.  Fletcher, 
or  raising  her  eyes,  she  left  the  house. 

A  few  moments  after  her  departure,  Mrs.  Fletcher 
perceived  that  she  had  dropped  at  her  feet  a  little 
roll,  which  she  found,  on  examination,  to  be  an  ar- 
row, and  the  rattle  of  a  rattlesnake,  enveloped  in  a 
skin  of  the  same  reptile.  She  knew  it  was  the  cus- 
tom of  the  savages  to  express  much  meaning  by 
these  symbols,  and  she  turned  to  demand  an  expla- 
nation of  Magawisca,  who  was  deeply  skilled  in  all 
the  ways  of  her  people. 

Magawisca  had  disappeared;  and  Jennet,  who 
had  ever  looked  on  the  poor  girl  with  a  jealous  and 
an  evil  eye,  took  this  occasion  to  give  vent  to  her 
feelings.  "  It  is  a  pity,"  she  said,  "  the  child  is  out 
of  the  way  the  first  time  she  was  like  to  do  a  ser- 
vice ;  she  may  be  skilled  in  snake's  rattles  and 
bloody  arrows,  for  I  make  no  doubt  she  is  as  used 
to  them  as  I  am  to  my  broom  and  scrubbing- 
cloth." 

"Will  you  call  Magawisca  to  me?"  said  Mrs. 
Fletcher,  in  a  voice  that  from  her  would  have  been 
a  silencing  reproof  to  a  more  sensitive  ear  than  Jen- 
net's ;  but  she,  no  ways  daunted,  replied,  "  Ah !  that 
will  I,  madam,  if  I  can  find  her ;  but  where  to  look 


52  HOPE    LESLIE. 

for  her  no  mere  mortal  can  tell ;  for  she  does  not  stay 
longer  on  a  perch  than  a  butterfly,  unless,  indeed,  it 
be  when  she  is  working  on  Mr.  EverelPs  moccasins, 
or  filling  his  ears  with  wild  fables  about  those  ram- 
paging Indians.  Ah,  there  she  is  !"  she  exclaimed, 
looking  through  the  window, "  talking  with  Nelema, 
just  a  little  way  into  the  wood;  there,  I  see  their 
heads  above  those  scrub-oaks ;  see  their  wild  mo- 
tions ;  see,  Magawisca  starts  homeward — now  the 
old  woman  pulls  her  back — now  she  seems  entreat- 
ing Nelema  ;  the  old  hag  shakes  her  head — Maga- 
wisca covers  her  eyes :  what  can  all  this  mean  1  no 
good,  I  am  sure.  The  girl  is  ever  going  to  Nele- 
ma's  hut,  and  of  moonlight  nights  too,  when  they  say 
witches  work  their  will :  birds  of  a  feather  flock  to- 
gether. Well,  I  knov7  one  thing,  that  if  Master  Ev- 
erell  was  mine,  I  would  sooner,  in  faith,  cast  him  into 
the  lion's  den  or  the  fiery  furnace,  than  leave  him  to 
this  crafty  offspring  of  a  race  that  are  the  children 
and  heirs  of  the  Evil  One." 

"  Jennet,"  said  Mrs.  Fletcher,  "  thy  tongue  far 
outruns  thy  discretion.  Restrain  thy  foolish  thoughts, 
and  bid  Magawisca  come  to  me." 

Jennet  sullenly  obeyed,  and  soon  after  Magawisca 
entered.  Mrs.  Fletcher  was  struck  with  her  changed 
aspect.  She  turned  away,  as  one  conscious  of  pos- 
sessing a  secret,  and  fearful  that  the  eye  will  speak 
unbidden.  Her  air  was  troubled  and  anxious,  and 
instead  of  her  usual  light  and  lofty  step,  she  moved 
timidly  and  dejectedly. 

"  Come  to  me,  Magawisca,"  said  Mrs.  Fletcher, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  53 

"and  deal  truly  by  me,  as  I  have  ever  dealt  by 
thee." 

She  obeyed,  and  as  she  stood  by  Mrs.  Fletcher,  the 
poor  girl's  tears  dropped  on  her  benefactor's  lap. 
^'  Thou  hast  been  more  than  true,"  she  said ;  "  thou 
hast  been  kind  to  me  as  the  mother-bird  that  shel- 
ters the  wanderer  in  her  nest." 

"  Then,  Magawisca,  if  it  concerneth  me  to  know 
it,  thou  wilt  explain  the  meaning  of  this  roll  which 
Nelema  dropped  at  my  feet." 

The  girl  started  and  became  very  pale  :  to  an  ob- 
serving eye,  the  changes  of  the  olive  skin  are  as  ap- 
parent as  those  of  a  fairer  complexion.  She  took 
the  roll  from  Mrs.  Fletcher,  and  shut  her  eyes  fast. 
Her  bosom  heaved  convulsively ;  but,  after  a  short 
struggle  with  conflicting  feelings,  she  said  deliber- 
ately, in  a  low  voice,  "  That  which  I  may  speak 
without  bringing  down  on  me  the  curse  of  my  fa- 
ther's race,  I  will  speak.  This,"  she  added,  un- 
folding the  snake's  skin, "  this  betokeneth  the  unseen 
and  silent  approach  of  an  enemy.  This,  you  know," 
and  she  held  up  the  rattle,  "  is  the  warning  voice 
that  speaketh  of  danger  near.  And  this,"  she  con- 
cluded, taking  the  arrov7  in  her  trembling  hand, 
"  this  is  the  symbol  of  death." 

"  And  wh}^  Magawisca,  are  these  fearful  tokens 
given  to  me  ?  Dost  thou  know,  girl,  aught  of  a 
threatening  enemy — of  an  ambushed  foe  ?" 

"  I  have  said  all  that  I  may  say,"  she  replied. 

Mrs.  Fletcher  questioned  farther,  but  could  obtain 
no  satisfaction.  Magawisca's  lips  were  sealed ;  and 
E2 


54  HOPE    LESLIE. 

it  was  certain  that,  if  her  resohition  did  not  yield  to 
the  entreaties  of  her  own  heart,  it  would  resist  every 
other  influence. 

Mrs.  Fletcher  summoned  Everell,  and  bade  him 
urge  Magawisca  to  disclose  whatever  Nelema  had 
communicated.  He  did  so,  but  sportively,  for  he 
said  "  the  old  woman  was  cracked,  and  Magawisca's 
head  was  turned.  If  there  were  indeed  danger," 
he  continued,  "  and  Magawisca  was  apprized  of  it, 
think  you,  mother,  she  would  permit  us  to  remain  in 
ignorance?"  He  turned  an  appealing  glance  to 
Magawisca,  but  her  face  was  averted.  Without 
suspecting  this  was  intentional,  he  continued,  "  You 
ought  to  do  penance,  Magawisca,  for  the  alarm  you 
have  given  mother.  You  and  I  will  act  as  her  pa- 
trol to-night." 

Magawisca  assented,  and  appeared  relieved  by 
the  proposition,  though  her  gloom  was  not  lighten- 
ed by  Everell's  gayety.  Mrs.  Fletcher  did  not,  of 
course,  acquiesce  in  this  arrangement,  but  she  deem- 
ed it  prudent  to  communicate  her  apprehensions  to 
her  trusty  Digby.  After  a  short  consultation,  it  was 
agreed  that  Digby  should  remain  on  guard  during 
the  night,  and  that  the  two  other  men-servants  should 
have  their  muskets  in  order,  and  be  ready  at  a  mo- 
ment's warning.  Such  precautions  were  not  unfre- 
quent,  and  caused  no  unusual  excitement  in  the 
household.  Mrs.  Fletcher  had  it,  as  she  expressed 
herself, "  borne  in  upon  her  mind,  after  the  evening 
exercise,  to  make  some  remarks  upon  the  uncertainty 
of  life."     She  then  dismissed  the  family  to  their  sev- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  55 

eral  apartments,  and  herself  retired  to  endite  the 
epistle  given  above. 

Everell  observed  Magawisca  closely  through  the 
evening,  and  he  was  convinced,  from  the  abstraction 
of  her  manner,  and  from  the  efforts  she  made  (which 
were  now  apparent  to  him)  to  maintain  a  calm  de- 
meanour, that  there  was  more  ground  for  his  moth- 
er's apprehensions  than  he  at  first  supposed.  He  de- 
termined to  be  the  companion  of  Digby's  watch;  and, 
standing  high  in  that  good  fellow's  confidence,  he 
made  a  private  arrangement  with  him,  which  he 
easily  effected  without  his  mother's  knowledge;  for 
his  youthful  zeal  did  not  render  hira  regardless  of 
the  impropriety  of  heightening  her  fears. 


66  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

•'  It  would  have  been  happy  if  they  had  converted  some  before  they 
had  killed  any." — Robinson. 

The  house  at  Bethel  had,  both  in  front  and  in  rear, 
a  portico,  or,  as  it  was  more  humbly,  and  therefore 
more  appropriately  named,  a  shed ;  that  in  the  rear 
was  a  sort  of  adjunct  to  the  kitchen,  and  one  end  of 
it  was  enclosed  for  the  purpose  of  a  bedroom,  and 
occupied  by  Magawisca.  Everell  found  Digby  sit- 
ting at  the  other  extremity  of  this  portico ;  his  posi- 
tion was  prudently  chosen.  The  moon  was  high 
and  the  heavens  clear,  and  there,  concealed  and 
sheltered  by  the  shadow  of  the  roof,  he  could,  with- 
out being  seen,  command  the  whole  extent  of  clear- 
ed ground  that  bordered  on  the  forest,  whence  the 
foe  would  come,  if  he  came  at  all. 

Everell,  like  a  good  knight,  had  carefully  inspect- 
ed his  arms,  and  just  taken  his  position  beside  Digby, 
when  they  heard  Magawisca's  window  cautiously 
opened,  and  saw  her  spring  through  it.  Everell 
w^ould  have  spoken  to  her,  but  Digby  made  a  sig- 
nal of  silence ;  and  she,  without  observing  them, 
hastened  with  a  quick  and  light  step  tow^ards  the 
wood,  and  entered  it,  taking  the  path  that  led  to 
Nelema's  hut. 

"  Confound  her !"  exclaimed  Digby,  "  she  is  in 
a  plot  with  the  old  w^oman." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  57 

"  No,  no.     On  ray  life  she  is  not,  Digby." 

"  Some  raischief — some  mischief,"  said  Digby,  sha- 
king his  head.  "  They  are  a  treacherous  race.  Let's 
follow  her.  No,  we  had  best  keep  clear  of  the  wood. 
Do  you  call  after  her ;  she  will  hearken  to  you." 

Everell  hesitated.  "  Speak  quickly,  Mr.  Everell," 
urged  Digby ;  "  she  will  be  beyond  the  reach  of  your 
voice.  It  is  no  light  matter  that  could  take  her  to 
Nelema's  hut  at  this  time  of  the  ni^ht." 

"  She  has  good  reason  for  going,  Digby.  I  am 
sure  of  it;  and  I  will  not  call  her  back." 

"Reason,"  muttered  Digby;  "reason  is  but  a 
jack-o'-lantern  light  in  most  people's  minds.  You 
trust  her  too  far,  Mr.  Everell ;  but  there,  she  is  re- 
turning !  See  how  she  looks  all  around  her,  like  a 
frightened  bird  that  hears  an  enemy  in  every  rust- 
ling leaf.  Stand  close;  observe  her;  see,  she  lays 
her  ear  to  the  earth — it  is  their  crafty  way  of  listen- 
ing ;  there,  she  is  gone  again !"  he  exclaimed,  as 
Magawisca  darted  away  into  the  wood.  "  It  is  past 
doubt  she  holds  communication  with  some  one.  God 
send  us  a  safe  deliverance.  I  had  rather  meet  a  le- 
gion of  Frenchmen  than  a  company  of  these  sava- 
ges. They  are  a  kind  of  beast  we  don't  comprehend 
— out  of  the  range  of  God's  creatures — neither  an- 
gel, man,  nor  yet  quite  devil.  I  would  have  sent 
to  the  fort  for  a  guard  to-night,  but  I  liked  not  being 
driven  hither  and  yon  by  that  old  hag's  tokens,  nor 
yet  quite  to  take  counsel  from  your  good  mother's 
fears,  she  being  but  a  woman." 

"  I  thmk  you  have  caught  the  fear,  Digby,  without 


58  HOPE    LESLIE. 

taking  its  counsel,"  said  Everell, "  which  does  little 
credit  to  your  wisdom;  the  only  use  of  fear  being 
to  provide  against  danger." 

"  That  is  true,  Mr.  Everell;  but  don't  think  I  am 
afraid.  It  is  one  thing  to  know  what  danger  is,  and 
wish  to  shun  it,  and  another  thing  to  feel  like  you 
fear-naught  lads,  that  have  never  felt  a  twinge  of 
pain,  and  have  scarce  a  sense  of  your  own  mortality. 
You  would  be  the  boldest  at  an  attack,  Mr.  Everell, 
and  I  should  stand  a  siege  best.  A  boy's  courage 
is  a  keen  weapon  that  wants  temper." 

"  Apt  to  break  at  the  first  stroke  from  the  enemy, 
you  mean,  Digby  ?"  Bigby  nodded  assent.  "  Well, 
I  should  like,  at  any  rate,  to  prove  it,"  added  Ev- 
erell. 

"  Time  enough  this  half  dozen  years  yet,  my  young 
master.  I  should  be  loath  to  see  that  fair  skin  of 
thine  stained  with  blood ;  and,  besides,  you  have  yet 
to  get  a  little  more  worldly  prudence  than  to  trust 
a  young  Indian  girl  just  because  she  takes  your 
fancy." 

"  And  w^hy  does  she  take  my  fancy,  Bigby  ?  be- 
cause she  is  true  and  noble-minded.  I  am  certain, 
that  if  she  knows  of  any  danger  approaching  us, 
she  is  seeking  to  avert  it.' 

"  I  don't  know  that,  Mr.  Everell ;  she'll  be  first 
true  to  her  own  people.  The  old  proverb  holds  fast 
with  these  savages,  as  well  as  with  the  rest  of  the 
world  :  '  hawks  won't  pick  out  hawks'  eyes.'  Like 
to  like,  throughout  all  nature.  I  grant  you,  she  hath 
truly  a  fair  seeming," 


HOPE    LESLIE.  69 

"  And  all  that's  foul  is  our  own  suspicion,  is  it  not, 
Digby  7" 

"  Not  exactly ;  there's  plainly  some  mystery  be- 
tween Magawisca  and  the  old  woman:  and  we 
know  these  Pequods  were  famed  above  all  the  In- 
dian tribes  for  their  cunning." 

"  And  what  is  superior  cunning  among  savages 
but  superior  sense  ?" 

"You  may  out-talk  me,  Mr.  Everell,"  replied 
Digby,  with  the  impatience  that  a  man  feels  when 
he  is  sure  he  is  right,  without  being  able  to  make  it 
appear.  "  You  may  out-talk  me,  but  you  will  never 
convince  me.  Was  not  I  in  the  Pequod  war  ?  I 
ought  to  know,  I  think." 

"Yes,  and  I  think  you  have  told  me  they  showed 
more  resolution  than  cunning  there ;  in  particular, 
that  the  brother  of  Magawisca,  whom  she  so  pit- 
eously  bemoans  to  this  day,  fought  like  a  young  lion." 

"  Yes,  he  did,  poor  dog !  and  he  was  afterward 
cruelly  cut  off:  and  it  is  this  that  makes  me  think 
they  will  take  some  terrible  revenge  for  his  death. 
I  often  hear  Magawisca  talking  to  Oneco  of  her 
brother,  and  I  think  it  is  to  stir  his  spirit ;  but  this 
boy  is  no  more  like  to  him  than  a  spaniel  to  a  blood- 
hound." 

Nothing  Digby  said  had  any  tendency  to  weaken 
EverelPs  confidence  in  Magawisca. 

The  subject  of  the  Pequod  war  once  started,  Digby 
and  Everell  were  in  no  danger  of  sleeping  at  their 
post.  Digby  loved,  as  well  as  another  man,  and 
particularly  those  who  have  had  brief  military  ex- 


60  HOPE   LESLIE. 

perience,  to  fight  his  battles  o'er  again ;  and  Everell 
was  at  an  age  to  listen  with  delight  to  tales  of  ad- 
venture and  danger.  They  thus  wore  away  the  time 
till  the  imaginations  of  both  relater  and  listener  were 
at  that  pitch  when  every  shadow  is  imbodied,  and 
every  passing  sound  bears  a  voice  to  the  quickened 
sense. 

"  Hark !"  said  Digby ;  "  did  you  not  hear  foot- 
steps ?" 

"  I  hear  them  now,"  rephed  Everell ;  "  they  seem 
not  very  near.     Is  it  not  Magawisca  returning  V^ 

"  No,  there  is  more  than  one  ;  and  it  is  the  heavy, 
though  cautious,  tread  of  men.  Ha !  Argus  scents 
them."  The  old  house-dog  now  sprang  from  his 
rest  on  a  mat  at  the  door-stone,  and  gave  one  of 
those  loud,  inquiring  barks,  by  which  this  animal  first 
hails  the  approach  of  a  strange  footstep.  "  Hush, 
Argus,  hush  !"  cried  Everell ;  and  the  dog,  having 
obeyed  his  instinct,  seemed  satisfied  to  submit  to  his 
master's  voice,  and  crept  lazily  back  to  his  place  of 
repose. 

"  You  have  hushed  Argus,  and  the  footsteps  too," 
said  Digby  -,  "  but  it  is  well,  perhaps,  if  there  really 
is  an  enemy  near,  that  he  should  know  we  are  on 
guard." 

*•  If  there  really  is,  Digby  !"  said  Everell,  who,  ter- 
rific as  the  apprehended  danger  v/as,  felt  the  irre- 
pressible thirst  of  youth  of  adventure ;  "  do  you  think 
we  could  both  have  been  deceived  ?' 

"Nothing  easier,  Mr.  Everell,  than  to  deceive 
senses  on  the  watch  for  alarm.     We  heard  some- 


Mope  Leslie.  61 

thing,  but  it  might  have  been  the  wolves  that  even 
now  prowl  about  the  very  clearing  here  at  night. 
Ha !"  he  exclaimed,  "  there  they  are ;"  and,  starting 
forward,  he  levelled  his  musket  towards  the  wood. 

"  You  are  mad,"  said  Everell,  striking  down  Dig- 
by's  musket  with  the  butt  end  of  his  own.  "  It  is 
Magawisca."  Magawisca  at  that  moment  emerged 
from  the  wood. 

Digby  appeared  confounded.  "  Could  I  have  been 
so  deceived?"  he  said;  "could  it  have  been  her 
shadow  1  I  thought  I  saw  an  Indian  beyond  that 
birch-tree ;  you  see  the  white  bark  ?  well,  just  be- 
yond in  the  shade.  It  could  not  have  been  Maga- 
wisca, nor  her  shadow,  for  you  see  there  are  trees 
between  the  footpath  and  that  place ;  and  yet  how 
should  he  have  vanished  without  motion  or  sound  1" 

"  Our  senses  deceive  us,  Digby,"  said  Everell,  re- 
ciprocating Digby's  own  argument. 

"  In  this  tormenting  moonlight  they  do ;  but  my 
senses  have  been  well  schooled  in  their  time,  and 
should  have  learned  to  know  a  man  from  a  woman, 
and  a  shadow  from  a  substance." 

Digby  had  not  a  very  strong  conviction  of  the  ac- 
tual presence  of  an  enemy,  as  v\"as  evident  from  his 
giving  no  alarm  to  his  auxiliaries  in  the  house;  and 
he  believed  that  if  there  were  hostile  Indians  prowl- 
ing about  them,  they  v/ere  few  in  number ;  still  he 
deemed  it  prudent  to  persevere  in  their  precaution- 
ary measures.  "  I  will  remain  here,"  he  said, "  Mr. 
Everell,  and  do  you  follow  Magawisca ;  sift  what 
you  can  from  her.     Depend  on't,  there's  something 

Vol  L— F 


62  HOPE    LESLIE. 

wrong.  Why  should  she  have  turned  away  on  see- 
ing us  ?  and  did  you  not  observe  her  hide  something 
beneath  her  mantle  ?" 

Everell  acceded  to  Digby's  proposition,  not  with 
the  expectation  of  confirming  his  suspicions,  but  in 
the  hope  that  Magawisca  would  show  they  were 
groundless.  He  followed  her  to  the  front  of  the 
house,  to  which  she  seemed  involuntarily  to  have  bent 
her  steps  on  perceiving  him. 

"  You  have  taken  the  most  difficult  part  of  our  du- 
ty on  yourself,  Magawisca,"  he  said,  on  coming  up 
to  her.  "  You  have  acted  as  vidette,  while  I  have 
been  quiet  at  my  post." 

Perhaps  Magawisca  did  not  understand  him  ;  at 
any  rate,  she  made  no  reply. 

"  Have  you  met  an  enemy  in  your  reconnoitring  ? 
Digby  and  I  fancied  that  we  both  heard  and  saw  the 
foe." 

"  When  and  where  1"  exclaimed  Magawisca,  in 
a  hurried,  alarmed  tone. 

"  Not  many  minutes  since,  and  just  at  the  very 
edge  of  the  wood." 

"  What !  when  Digby  raised  his  gun  ?  I  thought 
that  had  been  in  sport,  to  startle  me." 

"  No,  Magawisca ;  sporting  does  not  suit  our 
present  case.  My  mother  and  her  little  ones  are  in 
peril,  and  Digby  is  a  faithful  servant." 

"  Faithful !"  echoed  Magawisca,  as  if  there  w^ere 
more  in  Everell's  expression  than  met  the  ear  ;  "  he 
surely  may  w^alk  straight  w^ho  hath  nothing  to  draw 
him  aside.     Digby  hath  but  one  path,  and  that  is 


HOPE    LESLIE.  63 

plain  before  him  ;  but  one  voice  from  his  heart,  and 
Avhy  should  he  not  obey  it  ]"  The  girl's  voice  fal- 
tered as  she  spoke,  and  as  she  concluded  she  burst 
into  tears.  Everell  had  never  before  witnessed  this 
expression  of  feeling  from  her.  She  had  an  habitual 
self-command,  that  hid  the  emotions  of  her  heart  from 
common  observers,  and  veiled  them  even  from  those 
who  most  narrowly  watched  her.  Everell's  confi- 
dence in  Magawisca  had  not  been  in  the  least  de- 
gree weakened  by  all  the  appearances  against  her. 
He  did  not  mean  to  imply  suspicion  by  his  commen- 
dation of  Digby,  but  merely  to  throw  out  a  leading 
observation,  which  she  might  follow  if  she  would. 

He  felt  reproached  and  touched  by  her  distress ; 
but,  struck  by  the  clew  which,  as  he  thought,  her  lan- 
guage afforded  to  the  mystery  of  her  conduct,  and 
confident  that  she  would  in  no  way  aid  or  abet  any 
mischief  that  her  own  people  might  be  contriving 
against  them,  he  followed  the  natural  bent  of  his 
generous  temper,  and  assured  her,  again  and  again, 
of  his  entire  trust  in  her.  This  seemed  rather  to  ag- 
gravate than  abate  her  distress.  She  threw  herself 
on  the  ground,  drew  her  mantle  over  her  face,  and 
w^ept  convulsively.  He  found  he  could  not  allay  the 
storm  he  had  raised,  and  he  seated  himself  beside 
her.  After  a  little  while,  either  exhausted  by  the 
violence  of  her  emotion,  or  comforted  by  Everell's 
silent  sympathy,  she  became  composed,  and  raised 
her  face  from  her  mantle,  and  as  she  did  so,  some- 
thing fell  from  beneath  its  folds.  She  hastily  recov- 
ered and  replaced  it,  but  not  till  Everell  had  perceiv- 


64  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ed  it  was  an  eagle's  feather.  He  knew  this  was 
the  badge  of  her  tribe,  and  he  had  heard  her  say 
that  "  a  tuft  from  the  wing  of  the  monarch  bird  was 
her  father's  crest."  A  suspicion  flashed  through  his 
mind,  and  was  conveyed  to  Magawisca's  by  one 
bright  glance  of  inquiry.  She  said  nothing,  but  her 
responding  look  was  rather  sorrowful  than  confused ; 
and  Everell,  anxious  to  believe  what  he  wished  to 
be  true,  came,  after  a  little  consideration,  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  feather  had  been  dropped  in  her 
path  by  a  passing  bird.  He  did  not  scrutinize  her 
motive  in  concealing  it ;  he  could  not  think  her  ca- 
pable of  evil  ;  and,  anxious  to  efface  from  her  mind 
the  distrust  his  countenance  might  have  expressed, 
"  This  beautiful  moon  and  her  train  of  stars,"  he  said, 
"  look  as  if  they  were  keeping  their  watch  over  our 
dwelling.  There  are  those,  Magawisca,  who  believe 
the  stars  have  a  mysterious  influence  on  human  des- 
tiny. I  know  nothing  of  the  grounds  of  their  faith, 
and  my  imagination  is  none  of  the  brightest;  but  I  can 
almost  fancy  they  are  stationed  there  as  guardian  an- 
gels, and  I  feel  quite  sure  that  nothing  evil  can  walk 
abroad  in  their  light." 

"  They  do  look  peaceful,"  she  replied,  mournfully ; 
"  but  ah  !  Everell,  man  is  ever  breaking  the  peace 
of  nature.  It  was  such  a  night  as  this,  so  bright 
and  still,  when  your  English  came  upon  our  quiet 
homes." 

"You  have  never  spoken  to  me  of  that  night, 
Magawisca." 

"  No,  Everell,  for  our  hands  have  taken  hold  of 


HOPE    LESLIE.  65 

the  chain  of  friendship,  and  I  feared  to  break  it  by 
speaking  of  the  wrongs  your  people  did  to  mine." 

"  You  need  not  fear  it ;  I  can  honour  noble  deeds, 
though  done  by  our  enemies,  and  see  that  cruelty  is 
cruelty,  though  inflicted  by  our  friends." 

"  Then  listen  to  me ;  and  when  the  hour  of  ven- 
geance comes,  if  it  should  come,  remember  it  was 
provoked." 

She  paused  for  a  few  moments,  sighed  deeply,  and 
then  began  the  recital  of  the  last  acts  in  the  tragedy 
of  her  people,  the  principal  circumstances  of  which 
are  detailed  in  the  chronicles  of  the  times  by  the 
witnesses  of  the  bloody  scenes.  "  You  know,"  she 
said,  "  our  fortress-homes  were  on  the  level  summit 
of  a  hill :  thence  we  could  see,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  stretch,  our  hunting-grounds  and  our  gardens, 
which  lay  beneath  us  on  the  borders  of  a  stream 
that  glided  around  our  hill,  and  so  near  to  it  that  in 
the  still  nights  we  could  hear  its  gentle  voice.  Our 
fort  and  wigwams  were  encompassed  with  a  pali- 
sade, formed  of  young  trees,  and  branches  interwo- 
ven and  sharply  pointed.  No  enemy's  foot  had  ever 
approached  this  nest,  which  the  eagles  of  the  tribe 
had  built  for  their  mates  and  their  young.  Sassacus 
and  my  father  were  both  away  on  that  dreadful 
night.  They  had  called  a  council  of  our  chiefs  and 
old  men ;  our  young  men  had  been  out  in  their  ca- 
noes, and  when  they  returned  they  had  danced  and 
feasted,  and  were  now  in  deep  sleep.  My  mother 
was  in  her  hut  with  her  children — not  sleeping,  for 
my  brother  Samoset  had  lingered  behind  his  com- 
F2 


66  HOPE    LESLIE. 

panions,  and  had  not  yet  returned  from  the  water- 
sport.  The  warning  spirit,  that  ever  keeps  its  sta- 
tion at  a  mother's  pillow,  whispered  that  some  evil 
Avas  near ;  and  my  mother,  bidding  me  lie  still  with 
the  little  ones,  went  forth  in  quest  of  my  brother. 
All  the  servants  of  the  Great  Spirit  spoke  to  my 
mother's  ear  and  eye  of  danger  and  death.  The 
moon,  as  she  sunk  behind  the  hills,  appeared  a  ball 
of  fire;  strange  lights  darted  through  the  air;  to 
my  mother's  eye  they  seemed  fiery  arrows;  to  her 
ear  the  air  was  filled  with  death-sighs. 

"  She  had  passed  the  palisade,  and  was  descend- 
ing the  hill,  when  she  met  old  Cushmakin.  'Do 
yOu  know  aught  of  my  boy  V  she  asked. 

" '  Your  boy  is  safe,  and  sleeps  with  his  compan- 
ions ;  he  returned  by  the  Sassafras  knoll ;  that  way 
can  only  be  trodden  by  the  strong- limbed  and  light- 
footed.' 

" '  My  boy  is  safe,'  said  my  mother ;  '  then  tell 
me,  for  thou  art  wise,  and  canst  see  quite  through 
the  dark  future,  tell  me,  what  evil  is  coming  to  our 
tribe  V  She  then  described  the  omens  she  had  seen. 
'  I  know  not,'  said  Cushmakin :  '  of  late  darkness 
hath  spread  over  my  soul,  and  all  is  black  there,  as 
before  these  eyes,  that  the  arrows  of  death  have 
pierced ;  but  tell  me,  Monoco,  what  see  you  now  in 
the  fields  of  heaven  ?" 

" '  Oh,  now,'  said  my  mother,  *  I  see  nothing  but 
the  blue  depths  and  the  watching  stars.  The  spir- 
its of  the  air  have  ceased  their  moaning,  and  steal 
over  my  cheek  like  an  infant's  breath.     The  water- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  67 

spirits  are  rising,  and  will  soon  spread  their  soft 
wings  around  the  nest  of  our  tribe.' 

"  *  The  boy  sleeps  safely,'  muttered  the  old  man, 
*  and  I  have  listened  to  the  idle  fear  of  a  doting  mo- 
ther.' 

"  '  I  come  not  of  a  fearful  race,'  said  my  mother, 

"  '  Nay,  that  I  did  not  mean,'  replied  Cushmakin ; 
'but  the  panther  watching  her  young  is  fearful  as 
a  doe.'  The  night  was  far  spent,  and  my  mother 
bade  him  go  home  with  her,  for  our  powwows*  have 
ever  a  mat  in  the  wigwam  of  their  chief.  '  Nay,'  he 
said,  '  the  day  is  near,  and  I  am  always  abroad  at  the 
rising  of  the  sun.'  It  seemed  that  the  first  warm 
touch  of  the  sun  opened  the  eye  of  the  old  man's 
soul,  and  he  saw  again  the  flushed  hills  and  the 
shaded  valleys,  the  sparkling  Vv^aters,  the  green 
maize,  and  the  gray  old  rocks  of  our  home.  They 
were  just  passing  the  little  gate  of  the  palisade,  when 
the  old  man's  dog  sprang  from  him  with  a  fearful 
bark.  A  rushing  sound  was  heard.  'Owanox! 
Owanox !'  (the  English  I  the  English  !)  cried  Cush- 
makin. My  mother  joined  her  voice  to  his,  and  in 
an  instant  the  cry  of  alarm  spread  through  the  wig- 
wams. The  enemy  were  indeed  upon  us.  They  had 
surrounded  the  palisade,  and  opened  their  fire." 

"  Was  it  so  sudden  1  Did  they  so  rush  on  sleep- 
ing women  and  children  1"  asked  Everell,  who  was 
unconsciously  lending  all  his  interest  to  the  party  of 
the  narrator. 

"  Even  so  ;  they  were  guided  to  us  by  the  traitor 

*  See  note  at  the  end  of  the  second  volume. 


68  HOPE   LESLIE. 

Wequash ;  he  from  whose  bloody  hand  my  mother 
had  shielded  the  captive  English  maidens ;  he  who 
had  eaten  from  my  father's  dish,  and  slept  on  his 
mat.  They  were  flanked  by  the  cowardly  Narra- 
gansetts,  who  shrunk  from  the  sight  of  our  tribe; 
who  were  pale  as  Avhite  men  at  the  thought  of  Sas- 
sacus  ;  and  so  feared  him,  that  when  his  name  was 
spoken  they  were  like  an  unstrung  bow,  and  they 
said,  '  He  is  all  one  God :  no  man  can  kill  him.' 
These  cowardly  allies  waited  for  the  prey  they  dared 
not  attack." 

"  Then,"  said  Everell,  "  as  I  have  heard,  our  peo- 
ple had  all  the  honour  of  the  fight." 

"  Honour  !  was  it,  Everell  ?  ye  shall  hear.  Our 
warriors  rushed  forth  to  meet  the  foe ;  they  surround- 
ed the  huts  of  their  mothers,  wives,  sisters,  children  ; 
they  fought  as  if  each  man  had  a  hundred  lives,  and 
w^ould  give  each  and  all  to  redeem  their  homes. 
Oh  !  the  dreadful  fray  even  now  rings  in  my  ears  ! 
Those  fearful  guns  that  we  had  never  heard  before — 
the  shouts  of  your  people — our  own  battle  yell — the 
piteous  cries  of  the  little  children — the  groans  of  our 
mothers ;  and  oh  !  worse,  worse  than  all,  the  silence 
of  those  that  could  not  speak.  The  English  fell 
back ;  they  were  driven  to  the  palisade,  some  beyond 
it,  when  their  leader  gave  the  cry  to  fire  our  huts, 
and  led  the  way  to  my  mother's.  Samoset,  the  no- 
ble boy,  defended  the  entrance  like  a  stag  at  bay 
till  they  struck  him  down ;  prostrate  and  bleeding, 
he  again  bent  his  bow,  and  had  taken  deadly  aim  at 
the  English  leader,  when  a  sabre-blow  severed  his 


HOPE    LESLIE.  69 

bowstring.  Then  was  taken  from  our  hearth-stone, 
where  the  English  had  been  so  often  warmed  and 
cherished,  the  brand  to  consume  our  dwellings. 
They  were  covered  with  mats,  and  burned  like  dried 
straw.  The  enemy  retreated  without  the  palisade. 
In  vain  did  our  warriors  fight  for  a  path  in  which  we 
might  escape  from  the  consuming  fire ;  they  were 
beaten  back ;  the  fire  gained  on  us ;  the  Narragan- 
setts  pressed  on  the  English,  howling  like  wolves  for 
their  prey.  Some  of  our  people  threw  themselves 
into  the  midst  of  the  crackling  flam.es,  and  their  cour- 
ageous souls  parted  with  one  shout  of  triumph ;  oth- 
ers mounted  the  palisade,  but  they  were  shot,  and 
dropped  like  a  flock  of  birds  smitten  by  the  hunter's 
arrows.  Thus  did  the  strangers  destroy,  in  our  own 
hom.es,  hundreds  of  our  tribe." 

"  And  how  did  you  escape  in  that  dreadful  hour, 
Magavv'isca  ?  you  were  not,  then,  taken  prisoners  ?' 

"No;  there  was  a  rock  at  one  extremity  of  our 
hut,  and  beneath  it  a  cavity  into  which  my  mother 
crept,  w^ith  Oneco,  myself,  and  the  two  little  ones 
that  afterward  perished.  Our  simple  habitations 
were  soon  consumed ;  we  heard  the  foe  retiring,  and 
when  the  last  sound  had  died  av/ay,  we  came  forth 
to  a  sight  that  made  us  lament  to  be  among  the  liv- 
ing. The  sun  was  scarce  an  hour  from  his  rising, 
and  yet  in  this  brief  space  our  homes  had  vanished. 
The  bodies  of  our  people  were  strewn  about  the 
smouldering  ruin,  and  all  around  the  palisade  lay 
the  strong  and  valiant  warriors,  cold,  silent,  power- 
less as  the  unformed  clay." 


70  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Magawisca  paused ;  she  was  overcome  with  the 
recollection  of  this  scene  of  desolation.  She  looked 
upward  with  an  intent  gaze,  as  if  she  held  commu- 
nion with  an  invisible  being.  "  Spirit  of  my  mother !" 
burst  from  her  lips ;  "  oh  !  that  I  could  follow  thee 
to  that  blessed  land,  where  I  should  no  more  dread 
the  war-cry  nor  the  death-knife."  Everell  dashed 
the  gathering  tears  from  his  eyes,  and  Magawisca 
proceeded  in  her  narrative. 

*'  While  we  all  stood  silent  and  motionless,  we 
heard  footsteps  and  cheerful  voices.  They  came 
from  my  father  and  Sassacus,  and  their  band,  re- 
turning from  the  friendly  council.  They  approached 
on  the  side  of  the  hill  that  was  covered  with  a  thick- 
et of  oaks,  and  their  ruined  homes  at  once  burst  upon 
their  view.  Oh !  what  horrid  sounds  then  pealed  on 
the  air !  shouts  of  wailing,  and  cries  for  vengeance. 
Every  eye  was  turned  with  suspicion  and  hatred  on 
my  father.  He  had  been  the  friend  of  the  English  ; 
he  had  counselled  peace  and  alliance  with  them  ;  he 
had  protected  their  traders;  delivered  the  captives 
taken  from  them,  and  restored  them  to  their  people  : 
now  his  wife  and  children  alone  were  living,  and 
they  called  him  traitor.  I  heard  an  angry  murmur, 
and  many  hands  were  lifted  to  strike  the  death- 
blow. He  moved  not :  '  Nay,  nay,'  cried  Sassacus, 
beating  them  off, '  touch  him  not ;  his  soul  is  bright 
as  the  sun ;  sooner  shall  you  darken  that  than  find 
treason  in  his  breast.  If  he  hath  shown  the  dove's 
heart  to  the  English  when  he  believed  them  friends, 
he  will  show  himself  the  fierce  eagle  now  he  knows 


HOPE    LESLIE.  71 

them  enemies.  Touch  him  not,  warriors  ,  remember 
my  blood  rmineth  in  his  veins.' 

"From  that  moment  my  father  was  a  changed 
man.  He  neither  spoke  nor  looked  at  his  wife  or 
children;  but,  placing  himself  at  the  head  of  one 
band  of  the  young  men,  he  shouted  his  w^ar-cry,  and 
then  silently  pursued  the  enemy.  Sassacus  went 
forth  to  assemble  the  tribe,  and  we  followed  my 
mother  to  one  of  our  villages." 

"  You  did  not  tell  me,  Magawisca,"  said  Everell, 
"  how  Samoset  perished :  was  he  consumed  in  the 
flames,  or  shot  from  the  palisade  V 

*•  Neither^ — neither.  He  w^as  reserved  to  whet 
my  father's  revenge  to  a  still  keener  edge.  He  had 
forced  a  passage  through  the  English,  and,  hastily 
collecting  a  few  warriors,  they  pursued  the  enemy, 
sprung  upon  them  from  a  covert,  and  did  so  annoy 
them  that  the  English  turned  and  gave  them  battle. 
All  fled  save  my  brother,  and  him  they  took  prison- 
er. They  told  him  they  would  spare  his  life  if  he 
"w^ould  guide  them  to  our  strongholds;  he  refused. 
He  had,  Everell,  lived  but  sixteen  summers;  he 
loved  the  light  of  the  sun  even  as  we  love  it;  his 
manly  spirit  was  tamed  by  wounds  and  weariness; 
his  limbs  were  like  a  bending  reed,  and  his  heart 
beat  like  a  woman's  ;  but  the  fire  of  his  soul  burned 
clear.  Again  they  pressed  him  with  offers  of  life 
and  reward ;  he  faithfully  refused,  and  with  o.ne  sa- 
bre-stroke they  severed  his  head  from  his  body. 

Magawisca  paused :  she  looked  at  Everell,  and 
said  with  a  bitter  smile,"  You  English  tell  us,  Ever- 


112  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ell,  that  the  book  of  your  law  is  better  than  that 
written  on  our  hearts ;  for  ye  say  it  teaches  mercy, 
compassion,  forgiveness :  if  ye  had  such  a  law,  and 
believed  it,  would  ye  thus  have  treated  a  captive 
boy  V 

Magawisca's  reflecting  mind  suggested  the  most 
serious  obstacle  to  the  progress  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, in  all  ao^es  and  under  all  circumstances — the 
contrariety  between  its  divine  principles  and  the  con- 
duct of  its  professors ;  which,  instead  of  always  be- 
ino*  a  medium  for  the  light  that  emanates  from  our 
Holy  Law,  is  too  often  the  darkest  cloud  that  ob- 
structs the  passage  of  its  rays  to  the  hearts  of  hea- 
then men.  Everell  had  been  carefully  instructed  in 
the  principles  of  his  religion,  and  he  felt  Magawis- 
ca's  relation  to  be  an  awkward  comment  on  them, 
and  her  inquiry  natural  j  but,  though  he  knew  not 
what  answer  to  make,  he  was  sure  there  must  be  a 
good  one,  and  mentally  resolving  to  refer  the  case  to 
his  mother,  he  begged  Magawisca  to  proceed  with 
her  narrative. 

"  The  fragments  of  our  broken  tribe,"  she  said, 
"were  collected,  and  some  other  small  dependant 
tribes  persuaded  to  join  us.  We  were  obliged  to 
flee  from  the  open  grounds,  and  shelter  ourselves  in 
a  dismal  swamp.  The  English  surrounded  us ;  they 
sent  in  to  us  a  messenger,  and  offered  life  and  par- 
don to  all  who  had  not  shed  the  blood  of  English- 
men. Our  allies  listened,  and  fled  from  us  as  fright- 
ened birds  fly  from  a  falling  tree.  My  father  looked 
upon  his  warriors  3  they  answered  that  look  with 


Hope  Leslie.  73 

their  battle-shout.  '  Tell  your  people/  said  my  fa- 
ther to  the  messenger, '  that  we  have  shed  and  drank 
English  blood,  and  that  we  will  take  nothing  from 
.them  but  death.' 

"The  messenger  departed,  and  again  returned 
with  offers  of  pardon  if  we  would  come  forth,  and 
lay  our  arrows  and  our  tomahawks  at  the  feet  of  the 
English.  '  Vv^hat  say  you,  warriors  V  cried  my  fa- 
ther :  *  shall  we  take  pardon  from  those  who  have 
burned  your  wives  and  children,  and  given  your 
homes  to  the  beasts  of  prey ;  who  have  robbed  you 
of  your  hunting-grounds,  and  driven  your  canoes 
from  their  waters  V  A  hundred  arrows  were  point- 
ed to  the  messenger.  *  Enough :  you  have  your 
answer,'  said  my  father ;  and  the  messenger  return- 
ed to  announce  the  fate  we  had  chosen." 

"  Where  was  Sassacus  1  Had  he  abandoned  his 
people  ?"  asked  Everell. 

"  Abandoned  them !  No  :  his  life  was  in  theirs  ; 
but,  accustomed  to  attack  and  victory,  he  could  not 
bear  to  be  thus  driven,  like  a  fox,  to  his  hole.  His 
soul  was  sick  within  him,  and  he  w^as  silent,  and  left 
all  to  my  father.  All  day  we  heard  the  strokes  of 
the  English  axes  felling  the  trees  that  defended  us, 
and  when  night  came  they  had  approached  so  near 
that  we  could  see  the  glimmering  of  their  w^atch- 
lights  through  the  branches  of  the  trees.  All  night 
they  were  pouring  in  their  bullets,  alike  on  warriors, 
women,  and  children.  Old  Cushmakin  w^as  lying 
at  my  mother's  feet  when  he  received  a  death-wound. 
Gasping  for  breath,  he  called  on  Sassacus  and  my 

Vol.  L— G 


t4  llOPE    LESLIE. 

father :  '  Stay  not  here,'  he  said ;  '  look  not  on  your 
wives  and  children,  but  burst  your  prison  bound ; 
sound  through  the  nations  the  cry  of  revenge! 
Linked  together,  ye  shall  drive  the  English  into  the 
sea.  I  speak  the  word  of  the  Great  Spirit :  obey 
it  1'  While  he  was  yet  speaking  he  stiffened  in 
death.  *Obey  him,  warriors,'  cried  my  mother; 
'see,'  she  said,  pointing  to  the  mist  that  was  now 
wrapping  itself  around  the  wood  like  a  thick  cur- 
tain, '  see,  our  friends  have  come  from  the  spirit-land 
to  shelter  you.  Nay,  look  not  on  us;  our  hearts 
have  been  tender  in  the  wigwam,  but  we  can  die 
before  our  enemies  without  a  groan.  Go  forth  and 
avenge  us." 

"  '  Have  we  come  to  the  counsel  of  old  men  and 
old  women  V  said  Sassacus,  in  the  bitterness  of  his 
Spirit* 

"  '  When  women  put  down  their  womanish 
thoughts  and  counsel  like  men,  they  should  be  obey- 
ed,' said  my  father.     *  Follow  me,  warriors  !' 

"  They  burst  through  the  enclosure.  We  saw 
nothing  more,  but  we  heard  the  shout  from  the  foe 
as  they  issued  from  the  wood — the  momentary  fierce 
encounter — and  the  cry, '  They  have  escaped  !'  Then 
it  was  that  my  mother,  who  had  listened  with  breath- 
less silencCj  threw  herself  down  on  the  mossy  stones, 
and,  laying  her  hot  cheek  to  mine,  '  Oh,  my  chil- 
dren, my  children  !'  she  said,  '  would  that  I  could  die 
for  you  !  But  fear  not  death  ;  the  blood  of  a  hun- 
dred chieftains,  that  never  knew  fear,  runneth  in 
your  veins.    Hark  !^  the  enemy  comes  nearer  and 


HOPE    LESLIE.  75 

nearer.  Now  lift  up  your  heads,  my  children,  and 
show  them  that  even  the  weak  ones  of  our  tribe  are 
strong  in  soul.' 

"  We  rose  from  the  ground  :  all  about  sat  women 
and  children  in  family  clusters,  awaiting  unmoved 
their  fate.  The  English  had  penetrated  the  forest- 
screen,  and  were  already  on  the  little  rising  ground 
where  we  had  been  intrenched.  Death  was  dealt 
freely.  None  resisted — not  a  movement  was  made 
— not  a  voice  lifted— not  a  sound  escaped,  save  the 
wailings  of  the  dying  children. 

"  One  of  your  soldiers  knew  my  mother,  and  a 
command  was  given  that  her  life  and  that  of  her 
children  should  be  spared.  A  guard  was  stationed 
round  us. 

"  You  know  that,  after  our  tribe  was  thus  cut  off, 
we  were  taken,  with  a  few  other  captives,  to  Boston. 
Some  were  sent  to  the  Islands  of  the  Sun,  to  bend 
their  free  limbs  to  bondage  like  your  beasts  of  bur- 
den. There  are  among  your  people  those  who  have 
not  put  out  the  light  of  the  Great  Spirit ;  they  can 
remember  a  kindness,  albeit  done  by  an  Indian ;  and 
when  it  was  known  to  your  sachems  that  the  wife 
of  Mononotto,  once  the  protector  and  friend  of  your 
people,  was  a  prisoner,  they  treated  her  with  honour 
and  gentleness.  But  her  people  were  extinguished ; 
her  husband  driven  to  distant  forests — forced  on 
earth  to  the  misery  of  wicked  souls — to  wander 
without  a  home;  her  children  were  captives,  and 
her  heart  was  broken.     You  know  the  rest." 


76  HOPE    LESLIE. 

This  war,  so  fatal  to  the  Pequods,  had  transpired 
the  preceding  year.  It  was  an  important  event  to 
the  infant  colonies,  and  its  magnitude  probably  some- 
what heightened  to  the  imaginations  of  the  English 
by  the  terror  this  resolute  tribe  had  inspired.  All 
the  circumstances  attending  it  were  still  fresh  in 
men's  minds,  and  Everell  had  heard  them  detailed 
with  the  interest  and  particularity  that  belongs  to 
recent  adventures;  but  he  had  heard  them  in  the 
language  of  the  enemies  and  conquerors  of  the  Pe- 
quods, and  from  Magawisca's  lips  they  took  a  new 
form  and  hue;  she  seemed  to  him  to  imbody  na- 
ture's best  gifts,  and  her  feelings  to  be  the  inspira- 
tion of  heaven.  This  new  version  of  an  old  story 
reminded  him  of  the  man  and  the  lion  in  the  fable. 
But  here  it  was  not  merely  changing  sculptors  to 
give  the  advantage  to  one  or  the  other  of  the  artist's 
subjects,  but  it  was  putting  the  chisel  into  the  hands 
of  truth,  and  giving  it  to  whom  it  belonged. 

He  had  heard  this  destruction  of  the  original  pos- 
sessors of  the  soil  described,  as  we  find  it  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  times,  where  we  are  told  "  the  number 
destroyed  was  about  four  hundred ;"  and  "  it  was  a 
fearful  sight  to  see  them  thus  frying  in  the  fire,  and 
the  streams  of  blood  quenching  the  same,  and  the 
horrible  scent  thereof;  but  the  victory  seemed  a  sweet 
sacrifice,  and  they  gave  the  praise  thereof  to  God." 

In  the  relations  of  their  enemies,  the  courage  of 
the  Pequods  was  distorted  into  ferocity,  and  their  for- 
titude in  their  last  extremity  thus  set  forth:  "many 
were  killed  in  the  swamp,  like  sullen  dogs,  that 


HOPE   LESLIE.  Tf 

would  rather,  in  their  self-willedness  and  madness, 
sit  still  to  be  shot  or  cut  in  pieces,  than  receive  their 
lives  for  asking  at  the  hands  of  those  into  whose  pow- 
er they  had  now  fallen." 

Everell's  imagination,  touched  by  the  wand  of 
feehng,  presented  a  very  different  picture  of  those 
defenceless  families  of  savages,  pent  in  the  recesses 
of  their  native  forests,  and  there  exterminated,  not 
by  superior  natural  force,  but  by  the  adventitious  cir- 
cumstances of  arms,  skill,  and  knowledge,  from  that 
offered  by  those  who,  "  then  living  and  worthy  of 
credit,  did  affirm,  that  in  the  morning,  entering  into 
the  swamp,  they  saw  several  heaps  of  them  (the  Pe- 
quods)  sitting  close  together,  upon  whom  they  dis- 
charged their  pieces,  laden  with  ten  or  twelve  pistol- 
bullets  at  a  time,  putting  the  muzzles  of  their  pieces 
under  the  boughs  within  a  few  yards  of  them." 

Ev^ell  did  not  fail  to  express  to  Magawisca,  with 
all  the  eloquence  of  a  heated  imagination,  his  sym- 
pathy and  admiration  of  her  heroic  and  suffering 
people.  She  listened  with  a  mournful  pleasure,  as 
one  listens  to  the  praise  of  a  departed  friend.  Both 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  purpose  of  itheir  vigil, 
which  they  had  marvellously  kept  without  apprehen- 
sion or  heaviness,  when  they  w^ere  roused  from  their 
romantic  abstraction  by  Digby's  voice  :  "  Now  to 
your  beds,  children,"  he  said  ;  "  the  family  is  stirring, 
and  the  day  is  at  hand.  See  the  morning  star  hang- 
ing just  over  those  trees,  like  a  single  watchlight  in 
all  the  wide  canopy.  As  you  have  not  to  look  in  a 
prayer-book  for  it,  Master  Everell,  don't  forget  to 
G2 


78  HOPE    LESLIE. 

thank  the  Lord  for  keeping  us  safe,  as  your  mother, 
God  bless  her,  would  say,  through  the  night  watches. 
Stop  one  moment,"  added  Digby,  lowering  his  voice, 
to  Everell,  as  he  rose  to  follow  Magawisca ;  "  did  she 
tell  you?" 

"Tell  me!  what?" 

"  What  I  Heaven's  mercy  !  what  ails  the  boy  1 
Why,  did  she  tell  you  what  brought  her  out  to-night  ? 
Did  she  explain  all  the  mysterious  actions  we  have 
seen  ?     Are  you  crazy  1     Did  not  you  ask  her  ?" 

Everell  hesitated ;  fortunately  for  him,  the  light 
was  too  dim  to  expose  to  Digby's  eye  the  blushes 
that  betrayed  his  consciousness  that  he  had  forgotten 
his  duty.  "Magawisca  did  not  tell  me,"  he  said; 
"  but  I  am  sure,  Digby,  that — " 

"  That  she  can  do  no  wrong — hey,  Master  Ever- 
ell ;  well,  that  may  be  very  satisfactory  to  you,  but 
it  does  not  content  me.  I  like  not  her  secref  ways : 
'  it's  bad  ware  that  needs  a  dark  store.'  " 

Everell  had  tried  the  force  of  his  own  convictions 
on  Digby,  and  knew  it  to  be  unavailing ;  therefore, 
having  no  reply  to  make,  he  very  discreetly  retreat- 
ed without  attempting  any. 

Magawisca  crept  to  her  bed,  but  not  to  repose ; 
neither  watching  nor  ^Veariness  procured  sleep  for 
her.  Her  mind  was  racked  with  apprehensions  and 
conflicting  duties,  the  cruellest  rack  to  an  honoura- 
ble mind. 

Nelema  had  communicated  to  her,  the  preceding 
day,  the  fact  which  she  had  darkly  intimated  to  Mrs. 
Fletcher,  that  Mononotto,  with  one  or  two  associ- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  79 

ates,  was  lurking  in  the  forest,  and  watching  an  op- 
portunity to  make  an  attack  on  Bethel.  How  far 
his  purpose  extended,  whether  simply  to  the  recov- 
ery of  his  children  or  to  the  destruction  of  the  fami- 
ly, she  knew  not.  The  latter  was  most  probable,  for 
hostile  Indians  always  left  blood  on  their  trail.  In 
reply  to  Magawisca's  eager  inquiries,  Nelema  said 
she  had,  again  and  again,  assured  her  father  of  the 
kind  treatment  his  children  had  received  at  the  hands 
of  Mrs.  Fletcher ;  but  he  seemed  scarcely  to  hear 
what  she  said,  and  precipitately  left  her,  telling  her 
that  she  would  not  again  see  him  till  his  work  was 
done. 

Magawisca's  first  impulse  had  been  to  reveal  all 
to  Mrs.  Fletcher  ;  but  by  doing  this  she  would  jeop- 
ard her  father's  life.  Her  natural  sympathies,  her 
strong  affections,  her  pride,  were  all  enlisted  on  the 
side  of  her  people ;  but  she  shrunk,  as  if  her  own  life 
were  menaced,  from  the  blow  that  was  about  to  fall 
on  her  friends.  She  would  have  done  or  suffered 
anything  to  avert  it — anything  but  betray  her  fa- 
ther. The  hope  of  meeting  him  explains  all  that 
seemed  mysterious  to  Digby.  She  did  go  to  Nele- 
ma's  hut,  but  all  was  quiet  there.  In  returning  she 
found  an  eagle's  feather  in  the  path :  she  believed 
it  must  have  just  been  dropped  there  by  her  father, 
and  this  circumstance  determined  her  to  remain 
watching  through  the  night,  that,  if  her  father  should 
appear,  she  might  avert  his  vengeance. 

She  did  not  doubt  that  Digby  had  really  seen  and 
heard  him ;  and  believing  that  her  father  would  not 


80  HOPE    LESLIE. 

shrink  from  a  single  armed  man,  she  hoped  against 
hope,  that  his  sole  object  was  to  recover  his  chil- 
dren ;  hoped  against  hope,  we  say,  for  her  reason 
told  her  that,  if  that  were  his  only  purpose,  it  might 
easily  have  been  accomphshed  by  the  intervention 
of  Nelema. 

Magawisca  had  said  truly  to  Everell,  that  her  fa- 
ther's nature  had  been  changed  by  the  wrongs  he  had 
received.  When  the  Pequods  were  proud  and  pros- 
perous, he  was  more  noted  for  his  humane  virtues 
than  his  warlike  spirit.  The  supremacy  of  his  tribe 
was  acknowledged,  and  it  seemed  to  be  his  noble 
nature,  as  it  is  sometimes  the  instinct  of  the  most 
powerful  animals,  to  protect  and  defend  rather  than 
attack  and  oppress.  The  ambitious  spirit  of  his 
brother  chieftain,  Sassacus,  had  ever  aspired  to  do- 
minion over  the  allied  tribes ;  and,  immediately  af- 
ter the  appearance  of  the  English,  the  same  temper 
was  manifest  in  a  jealousy  of  their  encroachments. 
He  employed  all  his  art,  and  influence,  and  authori- 
ty, to  unite  the  tribes  for  the  extirpation  of  the  dan- 
gerous invaders.  Mononotto,  on  the  contrary,  averse 
to  all  hostility,  and  foreseeing  no  danger  from  them, 
was  the  advocate  of  an  hospitable  reception  and  pa- 
cific conduct. 

This  difference  of  feeling  between  the  two  chiefs 
may  account  for  the  apparent  treachery  of  the  Pe- 
quods, who,  as  the  influence  of  one  or  the  other  pre- 
vailed, received  the  English  traders  with  favour  and 
hospitality,  or,  violating  their  treaties  of  friendship, 
inflicted  on  them  cruelties  and  death. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  81 

The  stories  of  the  murders  of  Stone,  Norton,  and 
Oldham  are  familiar  to  every  reader  of  our  early 
annals;  and  the  anecdote  of  the  two  English  girls 
who  were  captured  at  Wethersfield,  and  protected 
and  restored  to  their  friends  by  the  wife  of  Mono- 
notto,  has  already  been  illustrated  by  a  sister  labour- 
er, and  is  precious  to  all  those  who  would  accumu- 
late proofs  that  the  image  of  God  is  never  quite 
effaced  from  the  souls  of  his  creatures,  and  that, 
in  their  darkest  ignorance  and  deepest  degradation, 
there  are  still  to  be  found  traits  of  mercy  and  be- 
nevolence. These  will  be  gathered  and  treasured 
in  the  memory  with  that  fond  feeling  with  which 
Mungo  Park  describes  himself  to  have  culled  and 
cherished  in  his  bosom  the  single  flower  that  bloom- 
ed in  his  melancholy  track  over  the  African  desert. 

The  chieftain  of  a  savage  race  is  the  depository 
of  the  honour  of  his  tribe ;  and  their  defeat  is  a  dis- 
grace to  him,  that  can  only  be  effaced  by  the  blood 
of  his  conquerors.  It  is  a  common  case  with  the 
unfortunate,  to  be  compelled  to  endure  the  reproach 
of  inevitable  evils;  and  Mononotto  was  often  re- 
minded by  the  remnant  of  his  tribe,  in  the  bitterness 
of  their  spirit,  of  his  former  kindness  to  the  English. 
This  reproach  sharpened  too  keenly  the  edge  of  his 
adversity. 

He  had  seen  his  people  slaughtered,  or  driven 
from  their  homes  and  hunting-grounds  into  shameful 
exile ;  his  wife  had  died  in  captivity,  and  his  chil- 
dren lived  in  servile  dependance  in  the  house  of  his 
enemies. 


82  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Sassacus  perished  by  treachery,  and  Mononotto 
alone  remained  to  endure  this  accumulated  misery. 
In  this  extremity,  he  determined  on  the  rescue  of  his 
children,  and  the  infliction  of  some  signal  deed  of 
vengeance,  by  which  he  hoped  to  re^dve  the  spirit 
of  the  natives,  and  reinstate  himself  as  the  head  of 
his  broken  and  dispersed  people :  in  his  most  san- 
guine moments,  he  meditated  a  combination  and 
unity  that  should  eventually  expel  the  invaders. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  83 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  There  have  been  sweet  singing  voices 
In  your  walks  that  now  are  still ; 
There  are  seats  left  void  in  your  earthly  homes, 
Which  none  again  may  fjll." 

Mrs.  Hemans. 

Magawisca  rose  from  her  sleepless  pillow  to  join 
the  family  at  prayers,  her  mind  distracted  with  op- 
posing fears,  w^hich  her  face,  the  mirror  of  her  soul, 
too  truly  reflected. 

Mrs.  Fletcher  observed  her  narrowly ;  and,  con- 
firmed in  her  forebodings  by  the  girPs  apprehensive 
countenance,  and  still  farther  by  Digby's  report  of 
her  behaviour  during  the  night,  she  resolved  to  de- 
spatch him  to  Mr.  Pynchon  for  his  advice  and  as- 
sistance touching  her  removal  to  the  fort,  or  the  ap- 
pointment of  a  guard  for  Bethel.  Her  servant  (who 
prudently  kept  his  alarm  to  himself,  knowing,  as  he 
said,  that  a  woman's  fears  were  always  ahead  of 
danger)  applauded  her  decision,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  proceeding  to  act  upon  it,  when  a  messen- 
ger arrived  with  the  joyful  tidings  that  Mr.  Fletcher 
was  within  a  few  hours'  ride  of  Bethel ;  and  the 
intelligence,  no  less  joyful  to  Dame  Grafton,  that 
with  his  luggage,  already  arrived  at  the  village,  was 
a  small  box  of  millinery  w^hich  she  had  ordered 
from  London. 


84  HOPE    LESLIfi. 

Mrs.  Fletcher,  feeling,  as  good  wives  do,  a  sense 
of  safety  from  the  proximity  of  her  husband,  bade 
Digby  defer  any  new  arrangement  till  he  had  the 
benefit  of  his  master's  counsel.  The  whole  house 
was  thrown  into  the  commotion  so  common  in  a  re- 
tired family  when  an  arrival  is  about  to  interrupt 
the  equable  current  of  hfe.  Whatever  unexpressed 
and  superior  happiness  some  others  might  have  felt, 
no  individual  made  such  busthng  demonstrations  as 
Mrs.  Grafton.  It  was  difficult  to  say  w^hich  excited 
her  most,  the  anticipation  of  seeing  her  niece,  Hope 
Leslie,  or  of  inspecting  the  box  of  millinery. 

Immediately  after  dinner,  two  of  the  men-servants 
were  despatched  to  the  village  to  transport  their  mas- 
ter's luggage.  They  had  hardly  gone,  when  Mrs. 
Grafton  recollected  that  her  box  contained  a  present 
for  Madam  Hohoke,  wdiich  it  would  be  a  thousand 
pities  to  have  brought  to  Bethel,  and  lie  there  per- 
haps a  week  before  it  would  be  sent  to  her,  and  "  she 
would  like  of  all  things,  if  Mrs.  Fletcher  saw  no  ob- 
jection, to  have  the  pony  saddled  and  ride  to  the 
village  herself,  where  the  present  could  be  made 
forthwith." 

Mrs.  Fletcher  w^as  too  happy  to  throw  a  shadow 
across  any  one's  path,  and  wearied  too,  perhaps,  with 
Mrs.  Grafton's  fidgeting  (for  the  good  dame  had  all 
day  been  wondering  whether  her  confidential  agent 
had  matched  her  orange  satin  ;  how  she  had  trimmed 
her  cap,  &c.,  &c.,  &c.),  she  ordered  a  horse  to  be 
saddled  and  brought  to  the  door.  The  animal  pro- 
ved a  little  restiff ;  and  Mrs.  Grafton,  not  excelling 


HOPE    LESLIE.  85 

in  horsemanship,  became  alarmed,  and  begged  that 
Digby  might  be  allowed  to  attend  her. 

Digby's  cleverness  was  felt  by  all  the  household, 
and  his  talents  were  always  in  requisition  for  the 
miscellaneous  wants  of  the  family ;  but  Digby,  like 
good  servants  in  every  age,  was  aware  of  his  impor- 
tance, and  was  not  more  willing  than  a  domestic  of 
the  present  day  to  be  worked  like  a  machine.  He 
muttered  something  of  "  old  women  making  fools 
of  themselves  with  new  top-knots ;"  and  saying  aloud 
that  "  Mistress  Grafton  knew  it  was  his  master's  or- 
der that  all  the  men-servants  should  not  be  away 
from  the  place  at  the  same  time,"  he  was  turning 
off,  when  Mrs.  Fletcher,  who  was  standing  at  the 
door  observing  him,  requested  him,  with  more  au- 
thority than  was  usual  in  her  manner,  to  comply  with 
Mrs.  Grafton's  request. 

"  1  would  not  wish,"  said  Digby,  still  hesitating, 
"  to  disoblige  Mrs.  Grafton — if  it  were  a  matter  of 
life  and  death,"  he  added,  lowering  his  voice  3  "  but 
to  get  more  furbebws  for  the  old  lady,  when,  with 
what  she  has  already,  she  makes  such  a  fool  of  her- 
self, that  our  young  witlings.  Master  Everell  and 
Oneco,  garnish  out  our  old  Yorkshire  hen  with  pea- 
cock's feathers  and  dandelions,  and  then  call  her 
*  Dame  Grafton  in  a  flurry — '  " 

"  Hush,  Digby  !"  said  Mrs.  Fletcher;  "  it  ill  be- 
fits you  to  laugh  at  such  fooleries  in  the  boys :  they 
shall  be  corrected ;  and  do  you  learn  to  treat  your 
master's  friend  with  respect." 

"  Come,  come,  Digby !"  screamed  Mrs.  Grafton. 

Vol.  L— H 


86  HOPE    LESLIE. 

*'  Shall  I  go  and  break  my  master's  orders  ?"  ask- 
ed Digby,  still  bent  on  having  his  own  way. 

"  For  this  once  you  shall,  Digby,"  answered  Mrs. 
Fletcher ;  "  and  if  you  need  any  apology  to  your 
master,  I  shall  not  fail  to  make  it." 

"  But  if  anything  should  happen  to  you,  Mistress 
Fletcher—" 

"  Nothing  will  happen,  my  good  Digby.  Is  not 
your  master  at  hand  ?  and  an  hour  or  two  will  be 
the  extent  of  your  absence.  So  get  thee  along,  with- 
out more  ado." 

Digby  could  not  resist  any  farther  the  authority  of 
his  gentle  mistress,  and  he  walked  by  the  side  of 
Mrs.  Grafton's  pony  with  slow,  unwilling  steps. 

All  was  joy  in  Mrs.  Fletcher's  dwelling.  "My 
dear  mother,"  said  Everell,  "  it  is  now  quite  time  to 
look  out  for  father  and  Hope  Leslie.  I  have  turned 
the  hour-glass  three  times  since  dinner,  and  counted 
all  the  sands,  I  think.  Let  us  all  go  on  the  front  por- 
tico, where  we  can  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  them 
as  they  come  past  the  elm-trees.  Here,  Oneco,"  he 
continued,  as  he  saw  assent  in  his  mother's  smile, 
"  help  me  out  with  mother's  rocking-chair :  rather 
rough  rocking,"  he  added,  as  he  adjusted  the  rockers 
lengthwise  with  the  logs  that  served  for  the  flooring ; 
"  but  mother  w^on't  mind  trifles  just  now.  Ah  !  bless- 
ed baby  brother,"  he  continued,  taking  in  his  arms 
the  beautiful  infant, "you  shall  come  too,  even  though 
you  cheat  me  out  of  my  birthright,  and  get  the  first 
kiss  from  father."  Thus  saying,  he  placed  the  laugh- 
ing infant  in  his  go-cart  beside  his  mother.     He  then 


HOPE    LESLIE.  87 

aided  his  little  sisters  in  their  arrangement  of  the  play- 
things they  had  brought  forth  to  welcome  and  aston- 
ish Hope ;  and,  finally,  he  made  an  elevated  posi- 
tion for  Faith  Leslie,  where  she  might,  he  said,  as 
she  ought,  catch  the  very  first  glimpse  of  her  sister. 

"  Thank,  thank  you,  Everell,"  said  the  little  girl, 
as  she  mounted  her  pinnacle ;  "  if  you  knew  Hope, 
you  would  want  to  see  her  first  too :  everybody  loves 
Hope.  We  shall  always  have  pleasant  times  when 
Hope  gets  here." 

It  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  afternoons  at  the 
close  of  the  month  of  May.  The  lagging  spring  had 
at  last  come  forth  in  all  her  power ;  her  "  work  of 
gladness"  was  finished,  and  forests,  fields,  and  mead- 
ows were  bright  with  renovated  life.  The  full  Con- 
necticut swept  triumphantly  on,  as  if  still  exulting  in 
its  release  from  the  fetters  of  winter.  Every  gush- 
ing rill  had  the  spring-note  of  joy.  The  meadows 
were  for  the  first  time  enriched  with  patches  of  Eng- 
lish grain,  which  the  new  settlers  had  sown  scantily 
by  way  of  experiment,  prudently  occupying  the  great- 
est portion  of  their  rich  mould  with  the  native  In- 
dian corn.  This  product  of  our  soil  is  beautiful  in 
all  its  progress,  from  the  moment  when,  as  now,  it 
studded  the  meadow  with  hillocks,  shooting  its  bright- 
pointed  spear  from  its  mother  earth,  to  its  maturity, 
when  the  long  golden  ear  bursts  from  the  rustling 
leaf 

The  grounds  about  Mrs.  Fletcher's  house  had  been 
prepared  with  the  neatness  of  English  taste,  and  a 
rich  bed  of  clover,  that  overspread  the  lawn  imme- 


88  HOPE    LESLIE. 

diately  before  the  portico,  already  rewarded  the  in- 
dustry of  the  cultivators.  Over  this  delicate  carpet, 
the  domestic  fowls,  the  first  civihzed  inhabitants  of 
the  country  of  their  tribe,  were  now  treading,  picking 
their  food  here  and  there  like  dainty  little  epicures. 

The  scene  had  also  its  minstrels ;  the  birds,  those 
ministers  and  worshippers  of  nature,  were  on  the 
wing,  filling  the  air  with  melody ;  while,  like  dili- 
gent little  housewives,  they  ransacked  forest  and  field 
for  materials  for  their  housekeeping. 

A  mother  encircled  by  healthful  sporting  chil- 
dren is  always  a  beautiful  spectacle  :  a  spectacle 
that  appeals  to  nature  in  every  human  breast.  Mrs. 
Fletcher,  in  obedience  to  matrimonial  duty,  or,  it  may 
be,  from  some  lingering  of  female  vanity,  had  on 
this  occasion  dressed  herself  with  extraordinary  care. 
What  woman  does  not  wish  to  look  handsome — in 
the  eyes  of  her  husband  ? 

"  Mother,"  said  Everell,  putting  aside  the  exqui- 
sitely fine  lace  that  shaded  her  cheek, "  I  do  not  be- 
heve  you  looked  more  beautiful  than  you  do  to-day 
when,  as  I  have  heard,  they  called  you  '  the  rose  of 
the  wilderness  :'  our  little  Mary's  cheek  is  as  round 
and  as  bright  as  a  peach,  but  it  is  not  so  handsome 
as  yours,  mother.  Your  heart  has  sent  this  colour 
here,"  he  continued,  kissing  her  tenderly ;  "  it  seems 
to  have  come  forth  to  tell  us  that  our  father  is  near." 

"  It  would  shame  me,  Everell,"  replied  his  mother, 
embracing  him  with  a  feeling  that  the  proudest  draw- 
ing-room belle  might  have  envied,  "  to  take  such 
flattery  from  any  lips  but  thine." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  89 

"  Oh,  do  not  call  it  flattery,  mother  :  look,  Maga- 
wisca — for  Heaven's  sake,  cheer  up — look,  would 
you  know  mother's  eye  1  Just  turn  it,  mother,  one 
minute  from  that  road — and  her  pale  cheek  too,  with 
this  rich  colour." 

"  Alas  !  alas !"  replied  Magawisca,  glancing  her 
eye  at  Mrs.  Fletcher,  and  then,  as  if  heart-struck, 
withdrawing  them,  "  how  soon  the  flush  of  the  set- 
ting sun  fades  away." 

"  Oh,  Magawisca,"  said  Evcrell,  impatiently, 
"  why  are  you  so  dismal  1  Your  voice  is  too  sweet 
for  a  bird  of  ill  omen.  I  shall  begin  to  think,  as 
Jennet  says — though  Jennet  is  no  text-book  for  me 
— I  shall  begin  to  think  old  Neleraa  has  really  be- 
witched you." 

"  You  call  me  a  bird  of  ill  omen,"  replied  Maga- 
wisca, half  proud,  half  sorrowful, "  and  you  call  the 
owl  a  bird  of  ill  omen,  but  we  hold  him  sacred  j  he 
is  our  sentinel,  and  when  danger  is  near  he  cries 
awake !  awake  !" 

"  Magawisca,  you  are  positively  unkind  :  Jere- 
miah's lamentations  on  a  holyday  would  not  be  more 
cut  of  time  than  your  croaking  is  now  :  the  very 
skies,  earth,  and  air  seem  to  partake  our  joy  at  my 
father's  return,  and  you  only  make  a  discord.  Do 
you  think,  if  your  father  was  near,  I  would  not  share 
your  joy  ?' 

Tears  fell  fast  from  Magawisca's  eye,  but  she  made 
no  reply  ;  and  Mrs.  Fletcher,  observing  and  compas- 
sionating her  emotion,  and  thinking  it  probably  arose 
from  comparing  her  orphan  state  to  that  of  the  mer- 
H2 


90  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ry  children  about  her,  called  her  and  said,  "  Maga- 
wisca,  you  are  neither  a  stranger  nor  a  servant,  will 
you  not  share  our  joy  ?     Do  you  not  love  us  ?" 

"  Love  you  !"  she  exclaimed,  clasping  her  hands ; 
"  Jove  you !  I  would  give  my  life  for  you." 

"  We  do  not  ask  your  life,  my  good  girl,"  replied 
Mrs.  Fletcher,  kindly  smiling  on  her,  '^  but  a  light 
heart  and  a  cheerful  look.  A  sad  countenance  doth 
not  become  this  joyful  hour.  Go  and  help  Oneco ; 
he  is  quite  out  of  breath  blowing  those  soap-bubbles 
for  the  children." 

Oneco  smiled  and  shook  his  head,  and  continued 
to  send  off  one  after  another  of  the  prismatic  globes ; 
and  as  they  rose  and  floated  on  the  air,  and  bright- 
ened with  the  many-coloured  ray,  the  little  girls 
clapped  their  hands,  and  the  baby  stretched  his  to 
grasp  the  brilliant  vapour. 

"  Oh  !"  said  Magawisca,  impetuously  covering  her 
eyes, "  I  do  not  like  to  see  anything  so  beautiful  pass 
so  quickly  away." 

Scarcely  had  she  uttered  these  words,  when  sud- 
denly, as  if  the  earth  had  opened  on  them,  three  In- 
dian warriors  darted  from  the  forest,  and  pealed  on 
the  air  their  horrible  yells. 

"  My  father  !  my  father !"  burst  from  the  lips  of 
Magawisca  and  Oneco. 

Faith  Leslie  sprang  towards  the  Indian  boy,  and 
clung  fast  to  him,  and  the  children  clustered  about 
their  mother ;  she  instinctively  caught  her  infant,  and 
held  it  close  within  her  arms,  as  if  their  ineffectual 
shelter  were  a  rampart. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  91 

Magav;isca  uttered  a  cry  of  agony,  and  springing 
forward  with  her  arms  uphfted,  as  if  deprecating  his 
approach,  she  sunk  down  at  her  father's  feet,  and 
clasping  her  hands,  "  Save  them!  save  them !"  she 
cried,  "  the  mother — the  children  ;  oh,  they  are  all 
good ;  take  vengeance  on  your  enemies,  but  spare, 
spare  our  friends,  our  benefactors ;  I  bleed  when 
they  are  struck :  oh,  command  them  to  stop  !"  she 
screamed,  looking  to  the  companions  of  her  father, 
who,  unchecked  by  her  cries,  were  pressing  on  to 
their  deadly  work. 

Mononotto  was  silent  and  motionless ;  his  eye 
glanced  wildly  from  Magawisca  to  Oneco.  Maga- 
wisca  replied  to  the  glance  of  fire,  "  Yes,  they  have 
sheltered  us,  they  have  spread  the  wing  of  love 
over  us ;  save  them  !  save  them !  oh,  it  will  be  too 
late,"  she  cried,  springing  from  her  father,  whose 
silence  and  fixedness  showed  that,  if  his  better  nature 
rebelled  against  the  work  of  revenge,  there  was  no 
relenting  of  purpose.  Magawisca  darted  before  the 
Indian  who  was  advancing  towards  Mrs.  Fletcher 
wdth  an  uplifted  hatchet.  "  You  shall  hew  me  to 
pieces  ere  you  touch  her,"  she  said,  and  planted  her- 
self as  a  shield  before  her  benefactress. 

The  warrior's  obdurate  heart,  untouched  by  the 
sight  of  the  helpless  mother  and  her  little  ones,  was 
thrilled  by  the  courage  of  the  heroic  girl ;  he  paus- 
ed and  grimdy  smiled  on  he'r,  when  his  companion, 
crying  ''  Hasten,  the  dogs  will  be  on  us !"  levelled  a 
deadly  blow  at  Mrs.  Fletcher ;  but  his  uplifted  arm 
was  penetrated  by  a  musket  shot,  and  the  hatchet 
fell  harmless  to  the  floor. 


92  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  Courage,  mother !"  cried  Everell,  reloading  the 
piece ;  but  neither  courage  nor  celerity  could  avail : 
the  second  Indian  sprang  upon  him,  threw  him  on  the 
floor,  wrested  his  musket  from  him,  and  brandishing 
his  tomahawk  over  his  head,  he  would  have  aimed 
the  fatal  stroke,  w^hen  a  cry  from  Mononotto  arrest- 
ed his  arm. 

Everell  extricated  himself  from  his  grasp,  and  one 
hope  flashing  into  his  mind,  he  seized  a  bugle-horn 
which  hung  beside  the  door,  and  winded  it.  This 
was  the  conventional  signal  of  alarm,  and  he  sent 
forth  a  blast  long  and  loud — a  death-cry. 

Mrs.  Grafton  and  her  attendants  were  just  mount- 
ing their  horses  to  return  home.  Digby  listened  for 
a  moment ;  then  exclaiming,  "  It  comes  from  our 
master's  dwelling  I  Ride  for  your  life,  Hutton !"  he 
tossed  away  a  bandbox  that  encumbered  him,  and 
spurred  his  horse  to  its  utmost  speed. 

The  alarm  was  spread  through  the  village,  and 
in  a  brief  space  Mr.  Pynchon,  with  six  armed  men, 
were  pressing  towards  the  fatal  scene. 

In  the  mean  time  the  tragedy  was  proceeding  at 
Bethel.  Mrs.  Fletcher's  senses  had  been  stunned 
with  terror.  She  had  neither  spoken  nor  moved 
after  she  grasped  her  infant.  Everell's  gallant  in- 
terposition restored  a  momentary  consciousness :  she 
screamed  to  him,  "Fly,  Everell,  my  son,  fly;  for 
your  father's  sake,  fly." 

"Never,"  he  replied,  springing  to  his  mother's 
side. 

The  savages,  always  rapid  in  their  movements, 


HOPE   LESLIE.  93 

were  now  aware  that  their  safety  depended  on  de- 
spatch. "  Finish  your  work,  warriors,"  cried  Mon- 
onotto.  Obedient  to  the  command,  and  infuriated 
by  his  bleeding  wound,  the  Indian,  who,  on  receiv- 
ing the  shot,  had  staggered  back  and  leaned  against 
the  wall,  now  sprang  forward  and  tore  the  infant 
from  its  mother's  breast.  She  shrieked,  and  in  that 
shriek  passed  the  agony  of  death.  She  was  uncon- 
scious that  her  son,  putting  forth  a  strength  beyond 
nature,  for  a  moment  kept  the  Indian  at  bay;  she 
neither  saw  nor  felt  the  knife  struck  at  her  own 
heart.  She  felt  not  the  arms  of  her  defenders,  Ev- 
erell  and  Magawisca,  as  they  met  around  her  neck. 
She  fainted  and  fell  to  the  floor,  dragging  her  impo- 
tent protectors  with  her. 

The  savage,  in  his  struggle  with  Everell,  had 
tossed  the  infant  boy  to  the  ground ;  he  fell  quite 
unharmed  on  the  turf  at  Mononotto's  feet.  There, 
raising  his  head,  and  looking  up  into  the  chieftain's 
face,  he  probably  perceived  a  gleam  of  mercy,  for, 
wdth  the  quick  instinct  of  infancy,  that  with  unerring 
sagacity  directs  its  appeal,  he  clasped  the  naked  leg 
of  the  savage  with  one  arm,  and  stretched  the  other 
towards  him  with  a  piteous  supplication  that  no 
words  could  have  expressed.  Mononotto's  heart 
melted  within  him ;  he  stooped  to  raise  the  sweet 
suppliant,  when  one  of  the  Mohawks  fiercely  seized 
him,  tossed  him  wildly  around  his  head,  and  clashed 
him  on  the  door-stone.  But  the  silent  prayer — per- 
haps the  celestial  inspiration — of  the  innocent  crea- 
ture was  not  lost,     "  We  have  had  blood  enough," 


94  HOPE    LESLIE. 

• 

cried  Mononotto ;  "  you  have  well  avenged  me, 
brothers." 

Then  looking  at  Oneco,  who  had  remained  in  one 
corner  of  the  portico,  clasping  Faith  Leslie  in  his 
arms,  he  commanded  him  to  follow  him  with  the 
child.  Everell  was  torn  from  the  lifeless  bodies  of 
his  mother  and  sisters,  and  dragged  into  the  forest. 
Magawisca  uttered  one  cry  of  agony  and  despair 
as  she  looked  for  the  last  time  on  the  bloody  scene, 
and  then  followed  her  father. 

As  they  passed  the  boundary  of  the  cleared 
ground,  Mononotto  tore  from  Oneco  his  English 
dress,  and  casting  it  from  him,  "Thus  perish,"  he 
said,  "  every  mark  of  the  captivity  of  my  children. 
Thou  shalt  return  to  our  forests,"  he  continued, 
wrapping  a  skin  around  him,  "  with  the  badge  of 
thy  people." 


HOfE   LESLIE.  95 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  It  is  but  a  shadow  vanished— a  bubble  broke— a  dreame  finish' t : 
Eterniiie  will  pay  for  all." — Roger  Williams, 

Scarcely  had  the  invaders  disappeared  and  the 
sound  of  their  footsteps  died  away,  when  Digby  and 
Hutton  came  in  view  of  the  dweUing.  "  Ah !"  said 
Hutton,  reining  in  his  horse, "  I  thought  all  this  flus- 
ter was  for  nothing — the  blast  a  boy's  prank.  A 
pretty  piece  of  work  we've  made  of  it ;  you'll  have 
Mistress  Grafton  about  your  ears  for  tossing  away 
her  Lon'on  gimcracks.  All  is  as  quiet  here  as  a 
Saturday  night ;  nothing  to  be  seen  but  the  smoke 
from  the  kitchen  chimney,  and  that's  a  pleasant  sight 
to  me,  for  I  went  off  without  my  dinner,  and  me- 
thinks  it  will  now  taste  as  savoury  as  Jacob's  pot- 
tage." 

Digby  lent  no  attention  to  his  companion's  chat- 
tering, but  pressed  on ;  his  fears  were  allayed,  but 
not  removed.  As  he  approached  the  house,  he  felt 
that  the  silence  which  pervaded  it  boded  no  good; 
but  the  horrors  of  the  reality  far  surpassed  the  worst 
suggestions  of  his  vague  apprehensions.  "  Oh,  my 
mistress  !  my  mistress !"  he  screamed,  when  the  hav- 
oc of  death  burst  upon  his  sight.  "  My  good  mis- 
tress—and her  girls  !  and  the  baby  too  !  Oh,  God, 
have  mercy  on  my  master !"  and  he  bent  over  the 


96  HOPE    LESLIE. 

bodies  and  wrung  his  hands:  "not  one — not  one 
spared !" 

"Yes,  one,"  spoke  a  trembling,  whining  voice, 
which  proved  to  be  Jennet's,  who  had  just  emerged 
from  her  hiding-place  covered  with  soot ;  "  by  the 
blessing  of  a  kind  Providence,  I  have  been  preserved 
for  some  wise  end;  but,"  she  continued,  panting, 
"  the  fright  has  taken  my  breath  away,  besides  being 
squeezed  as  flat  as  a  pancake  in  the  bedroom  chim- 
ney." 

"  Stop — for  Heaven's  sake,  stop,  Jennet,  and  tell 
me,  if  you  can,  if  Mr.  Everell  was  here." 

Jennet  did  not  know;  she  remembered  having 
seen  the  family  in  general  assembled,  just  before  she 
heard  the  yell  of  the  savages. 

"  How  long,"  Digby  inquired,  "  have  they  been 
gone  ?  how  long  since  you  heard  the  last  sound  V 

"  That's  more  than  mortal  man,  or  woman  either, 
in  my  case,  could  tell,  Mr.  Digby.  Do  you  think, 
when  a  body  seems  to  feel  a  scalping-knife  in  their 
heads,  they  can  reckon  time  ?  No ;  hours  are  min- 
utes, and  minutes  hours,  in  such  a  case." 

"  Oh,  fool !  fool !"  cried  Digby  ;  and,  turning  dis- 
gusted away,  his  eye  fell  on  his  musket.  "  Thank 
the  Lord  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  Mr,  Everell  has  poured 
one  shot  into  the  fiends ;  he  alone  knew  where  the 
gun  was :  bless  the  boy — bless  him ;  he  has  a  strong 
arm  and  a  stout  soul — bless  him.  They  have  taken 
him  off;  we'll  after  him,  Hutton.  Jennet,  bring 
my  hunting  pouch.  Look  to  your  firelock,  Hutton. 
Magawisca !  Oneco !  Faith  Leslie,  all  gone !"  he  con- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  9t 

tinued,  his  first  amazement  dissipating,  and  thought 
after  thought  flashing  the  truth  on  his  mind.  "  I  re- 
member last  night — oh,  Mr.  Everell,  how  the  girl 
deceived  you  !  she  knew  it  all." 

"  Ah,  Magawisca !  so  I  thought,''  said  Jennet. 
"  She  knows  everything  evil  that  happens  in  earth, 
sea,  or  air — she  and  that  mother-witch  Nelema.  I 
always  told  Mrs.  Fletcher  she  was  warming  a  viper 
in  her  bosom,  poor  dear  lady ;  but  I  suppose  it  was 
for  wise  ends  she  was  left  to  her  bUndness." 

"  Are  you  ready,  Hutton  ?"  asked  Digby,  impa- 
tiently. 

"  Ready  !  yes,  T  am  ready ;  but  what  is  the  use, 
Digby  ?  what  are  we  two  against  a  host  ?  and,  be- 
sides, you  know  not  how  long  they  have  been  gone.'' 

"Not  very  long,"  said  Digby,  shuddering,  and 
pointing  to  blood  that  was  trickling,  drop  by  drop, 
from  the  edge  of  the  flooring  to  the  step.  How  long 
the  faithful  fellow  might  have  urged,  we  know  not, 
for  cowardice  hath  ever  ready  and  abundant  argu- 
ments, and  Hutton  w^as  not  a  man  to  be  persuaded 
into  danger ;  but  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Pynchon  and  his 
men  put  an  end  to  the  debate. 

Mr.  Pynchon  w^as  the  faithful,  paternal  guardian 
of  his  little  colony.  He  saw  in  this  scene  of  violent 
death  not  only  the  present  overwhelming  misery  of 
the  family  at  Bethel,  but  the  fearful  fate  to  which 
all  were  exposed  who  had  perilled  their  lives  in 
the  wilderness  ;  but  he  could  give  but  brief  space  to 
bitter  reflections  and  the  lamentings  of  nature.  In- 
stant care  and  service  were  necessary  for  the  dead 

Vol.  L— I 


98  HOPE    LESLIE. 

and  the  living.  The  bodies  of  the  mother  and  chil- 
dren were  removed  to  one  of  the  apartments,  and 
decently  disposed,  and  then,  after  a  fervent  prayer — 
a  duty  never  omitted  in  any  emergency  by  the  Pil- 
grims, whose  faith  in  the  minute  superintendence  of 
Providence  was  practical — he  directed  the  necessa- 
ry arrangements  for  the  pursuit  of  the  enemy. 

Little  could  be  gathered  from  Jennet.  She  was 
mainly  occupied  with  her  own  remarkable  preserva- 
tion, not  doubting  that  Providence  had  specially  in- 
terposed to  save  the  only  life  utterly  insignificant  in 
any  eyes  but  her  own.  She  recollected  to  have  heard 
Magawisca  exclaim  "  My  father !"  at  the  first  onset 
of  the  savages.  The  necessary  conclusion  was,  that 
the  party  had  been  led  by  the  Pequod  chief.  It  was 
obviously  probable  that  he  would  return,  with  his 
children  and  captives,  to  the  Mohawks,  where,  it 
was  well  known,  he  had  found  refuge ;  of  course,  the 
pursuers  were  to  take  a  westerly  direction.  Jennet 
was  of  opinion  that  the  party  was  not  numerous ;  and, 
encumbered  as  they  must  be  with  their  prisoners,  the 
one  a  child,  whom  it  would  be  necessary,  in  a  rapid 
flight,  to  carry,  Mr.  Pynchon  had  sanguine  expecta- 
tions that  they  might  be  overtaken. 

The  fugitives,  obliged  to  avoid  the  cleared  mead- 
ows, had,  as  Mr.  Pynchon  believed,  taken  an  indirect 
path  through  the  forest  to  the  Connecticut ;  which, 
in  pursuance  of  their  probable  route,  they  would  of 
course  cross  as  soon  as  they  could  with  safety.  He 
selected  five  of  his  men,  whom  he  deemed  fittest  for 
the  expedition,  and  recommending  it  to  them  to  be 


HOPE    LESLIE.  99 

guided  by  the  counsel  of  Digby,  whose  impatient  zeal 
was  apparent,  he  directed  them  to  take  a  direct 
course  to  the  river.  He  was  to  return  to  the  village, 
and  despatch  a  boat  to  them,  with  which  they  were 
to  ply  up  the  river,  in  the  hope  of  intercepting  the 
passage  of  the  Indians. 

The  men  departed,  led  by  Digby,  to  whose  agita- 
ted spirit  every  moment's  delay  had  appeared  unne- 
cessary and  fatal;  and  Mr.  Pynchon  was  mounting 
his  horse,  when  he  saw  Mr.  Fletcher,  who  had  avoid- 
ed the  circuitous  road  through  the  village,  emerge 
from  the  forest,  and  come  in  full  view  of  his  dwell- 
ing. Mr.  Pynchon  called  to  Jennet,  "  Yonder  is 
your  master;  he  must  not  come  hither  while  this 
precious  blood  is  on  the  threshold  ;  I  shall  take  him 
to  my  house,  and  assistance  shall  be  sent  to  you.  In 
the  mean  time,  watch  those  bodies  faithfully." 

"  Oh  !  I  can't  stay  here  alone,"  whimpered  Jennet, 
running  after  Mr.  Pynchon ;  "  I  would  not  stay  for 
all  the  Promised  Land." 

"  Back,  w^oman  !"  cried  Mr.  Pynchon,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder;  and  Jennet  retreated,  the  danger  of  ad- 
vancing appearing  for  the  moment  the  greater  of 
the  two. 

Mr.  Fletcher  was  attended  by  two  Indians,  who 
followed  him,  bearing  on  a  litter  his  favourite,  Hope 
Leslie.  "When  they  came  within  sight  of  Bethel, 
they  shouted  the  chorus  of  a  native  song.  Hope  in- 
quired its  meaning.  They  told  her,  and  raising  her- 
self, and  tossing  back  the  bright  curls  that  shaded 
her  eyes,  she  clapped  her  hands,  and  accompanied 


100  HOrE    LESLIE, 

them  with  the  English  words,  "The  home !  the  home! 
the  chieftain's  home  !"  "  And  my  home  too,  is  it 
not  ]"  she  said. 

Mr.  Fletcher  was  touched  with  the  joy  with  which 
this  bright  litjle_creature,  wVin_haf]  Ipff  i\  p^l  a  p.p.  in 
England,  hailed  his-mstic  dwelling  in.t^p  ^^der- 
ness.  He  turned  on  her  a  smile  of  delight — he  could 
not  speak ;  the  sight  of  his  home  had  opened  the 
floodgates  of  his  heart.  "  Oh,  now,"  she  continued, 
wdth  growing  animation,  "  I  shall  meet  my  sister. 
But  why  does  she  not  come  to  meet  us  ?  Where  is 
your  Everell  1  and  the  girls  1  There  is  no  one  look- 
ing out  for  us." 

The  stillness  of  the  place,  and  the  absence  of  all 
living  objects,  Struck  Mr.  Fletcher  with  fearful  ap- 
prehensions, heightened  by  the  sight  of  his  friend, 
who  was  coming  at  full  gallop  towards  him.  To 
an  accurate  observer,  the  effects  of  joy  and  sorrow 
on  the  human  figure  are  easily  discriminated ;  mis- 
ery depresses,  contracts,  and  paralyzes  the  body  as 
it  does  the  spirit. 

"  Remain  here  for  a  few  moments,"  said  Mr. 
Fletcher  to  his  attendants,  and  he  put  spurs  to  his 
horse  and  galloped  forward. 

"  Put  down  the  litter,"  said  Hope  Leslie  to  her 
bearers.  "  1  cannot  stand  stock-still  here,  in  sight  of 
the  house  where  my  sister  is."  The  Indians  knew 
their  duty,  and  determining  to  abide  by  the  letter  of 
their  employer's  orders,  did  not  depress  the  litter. 

"  There,  take  that  for  your  sulkiness,"  she  said, 
giving  each  a  tap  on  his  ear  j  and  half  impatient, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  101 

half  sportive,  she  leaped  from  the  litter  and  bounded 
forward. 

The  friends  met.  Mr.  Pynchon  covered  his  face 
and  groaned  aloud.  "  What  has  happened  to  my 
family  1"  demanded  Mr.  Fletcher.  "  My  wife — my 
son — my  little  ones  ?  Oh,  speak  !  God  give  me 
grace  to  hear  thee  !" 

In  vain  Mr.  Pynchon  essayed  to  speak ;  he  could 
find  no  w^ords  to  soften  the  frightful  truth.  Mr. 
Fletcher  turned  his  horse's  head  towards  Bethel,  and 
was  proceeding  to  end,  himself,  the  insupportable 
suspense,  when  his  friend,  seizing  his  arm,  cried, 
"  Stop  !  stop  !  go  not  thither !  thy  house  is  deso- 
late !"  and  then,  half  choked  with  groans  and  sobs, 
he  unfolded  the  dismal  story. 

Not  a  sound  nor  a  sigh  escaped  the  blasted  man. 
He  seemed  to  be  turned  into  stone  till  he  was  roused 
by  the  wild  shrieks  of  the  little  girl,  who,  unobserv- 
ed, had  listened  to  the  communication  of  Mr.  Pyn- 
chon. 

"  Take  the  child  with  you,"  he  said ;  "  I  shall  go  to 
my  house.  If — if  my  boy  returns,  send  a  messenger 
instantly ;  otherwise,  suffer  me  to  remain  alone  till 
to-morrow." 

He  passed  on  without  appearing  to  hear  the  cries 
and  entreaties  of  Hope  Leslie,  who,  forcibly  detained 
by  Mr.  Pynchon,  screamed,  "  Oh  !  take  me,  take  me 
with  you :  there  are  but  us  two  left ;  I  will  not  go 
away  from  you !"  but  at  last,  finding  resistance  use- 
less, she  yielded,  and  w^as  conveyed  to  the  village, 
where  she  was  received  by  her  aunt  Grafton,  whose 
12 


102  HOPE    LESLIE. 

grief  was  as  noisy  and  communicative  as  Mr.  I'letch- 
er's  had  been  silent  and  unexpressed  by  any  of  the 
ordinary  forms  of  sorrow. 

Early  on  the  following  morning,  Mr.  Pynchon,  at- 
tended by  several  others,  men  and  women,  went  to 
Bethel  to  offer  their  sympathy  and  service.  They 
met  Jennet  at  the  door,  who,  greatly  relieved  by  the 
sight  of  human  faces,  and  ears  willing  to  listen,  in- 
formed them  that,  immediately  after  her  master's 
arrival,  he  had  retired  to  the  apartment  that  con- 
tained the  bodies  of  the  deceased,  charging  her  not 
to  intrude  on  him. 

A  murmur  of  apprehension  ran  around  the  circle. 
"  It  was  misjudged  to  leave  him  here  alone,"  whis- 
pered one.  "  It  is  not  every  man,  though  his  faith 
stand  as  a  mountain  in  his  prosperity,  that  can  bear 
to  have  the  Lord  put  forth  his  hand,  and  touch  his 
bone  and  his  flesh." 

"  Ah !"  said  another, "  my  heart  misgave  me  when 
Mr.  Pynchon  told  us  how  calm  he  took  it ;  such  a 
calm  as  that  is  like  the  still  dead  waters  that  cover 
the  lost  cities ;  quiet  is  not  the  nature  of  the  crea- 
ture, and  you  may  be  sure  that  unseen  havoc  and 
ruin  are  underneath." 

"The  poor  dear  gentleman  should  have  taken 
something  to  eat  or  drink,"  said  a  little,  plump,  fuU- 
fed  lady ;  "  there  is  nothing  so  feeding  to  grief  as  an 
empty  stomach.  Madam  Holioke,  do  not  you  think 
it  would  be  prudent  for  us  to  guard  with  a  little  cor- 
dial and  a  bit  of  spiced  cake — if  this  good  girl  can 
give  it  to  us  V  looking  at  Jennet.     "  The  dear  lady 


HOPE    LESLIE,  103 

that's  gone  was  ever  thrifty  in  her  housewifery,  and 
I  doubt  not  she  left  such  witnesses  behind." 

Mrs.  Holioke  shook  her  head,  and  a  man  of  a  most 
solemn  and  owl-like  aspect,  who  sat  between  the  la- 
dies, turned  to  the  last  speaker  and  said,  in  a  deep 
guttural  tone,  "Judy,  thou  shouldst  not  bring  thy 
carnal  propensities  to  this  house  of  mourning — and 
perchance  of  sin.  Where  the  Lord  works,  Satan 
worketh  also,  tempting  the  wounded.  I  doubt  our 
brother  Fletcher  hath  done  violence  to  himself.  He 
was  ever  of  a  proud — that  is  to  say,  a  peculiar  and 
silent  make,  and  what  won't  bend  will  break." 

The  suggestion  in  this  speech  communicated  alarm 
to  all  present.  Several  persons  gathered  about  Mr. 
Pynchon.  Some  advised  him  to  knock  at  the  door 
of  the  adjoining  apartment ;  others  counselled  for- 
cing it,  if  necessary.  While  each  one  was  proffering 
his  opinion,  the  door  opened  from  within,  and  Mr. 
Fletcher  came  among  them. 

"  Do  you  bring  me  any  news  of  my  son  ?"  he 
asked  Mr.  Pynchon. 

Till  this  question  was  put  and  answered,  there 
was  a  tremulousness  of  voice,  a  knitting  of  the  brow, 
and  a  variation  of  colour,  that  indicated  the  agita- 
tion of  the  sufferer's  soul ;  but  then  a  sublime  com- 
posure overspread  his  countenance  and  figure.  He 
noticed  every  one  present  with  more  than  his  usual 
attention ;  and  to  a  superficial  observer,  one  who 
knew  not  how  to  interpret  his  mortal  paleness,  the 
fixed  melancholy  of  his  glazed  eye,  and  his  rigid 
muscles,  which  had  the  inflexibility  of  marble,  he 


1Q4  HOPE    LESLIE. 

might  have  appeared  to  be  suffering  less  than  any 
person  present.  Some  cried  outright;  some  stared 
with  undisguised  and  irrepressible  curiosity;  some 
were  voluble  in  the  expression  of  their  sympathy ; 
while  a  few  were  pale,  silent,  and  awe-struck.  All 
these  many-coloured  feehngs  fell  on  Mr.  Fletcher 
like  light  on  a  black  surface,  producing  no  change, 
meeting  no  return.  He  stood  leaning  on  the  mantel- 
piece till  the  first  burst  of  feeling  was  over;  till  all, 
insensibly  yielding  to  his  example,  became  quiet,  and 
the  apartment  was  as  still  as  that  in  which  death 
held  his  silent  dominion. 

Mr.  Pynchon  then  whispered  to  him  :  "  My  friend, 
bear  your  testimony  now ;  edify  us  with  a  seasonable 
word,  showing  that  you  are  not  amazed  at  your  ca- 
lamity ;  that  you  counted  the  cost  before  you  under- 
took to  build  the  Lord's  building  in  the  wilderness. 
It  is  suitable  that  you  should  turn  your  affliction  to 
the  profit  of  the  Lord's  people." 

Mr.  Fletcher  felt  himself  stretched  on  a  rack  that 
he  must  endure  with  a  martyr's  patience  ;  he  lifted 
up  his  head,  and  with  much  effort  spoke  one  brief 
sentence — a  sentence  which  contains  all  that  a  Chris- 
tian could  feel,  or  the  stores  of  language  could  ex- 
press :  *'  God's  will  be  done  !"  he  said,  and  then  hur- 
ried away  to  hide  his  struggles  in  solitude. 

Relieved  from  the  restraint  of  his  presence,  the 
company  poured  forth  such  moral,  consoling,  and  pi- 
ous reflections  as  usually  flow  spontaneously  from  the 
lips  of  the  spectators  of  suffering,  and  which  would 
seem  to  indicate  that  each  individual  has  a  spare 


HOPE    LESLIE,  105 

stock  of  wisdom  and  patience  for  his  neighbour's  oc- 
casions, though,  through  some  strange  fatahty,  they 
are  never  applied  to  his  own  use. 

We  hope  our  readers  will  not  think  we  have  wan- 
tonly sported  with  their  feelings,  by  drawing  a  pic- 
ture of  calamity  that  only  exists  in  the  fictitious  tale. 
No;  such  events  as  we  have  feebly  related  were 
common  in  our  early  annals,  and  attended  by  hor- 
rors that  it  would  be  impossible  for  the  imagina- 
tion to  exaggerate.  Not  only  families,  but  villages, 
were  cut  off  by  the  most  dreaded  of  all  foes — the 
ruthless,  vengeful  savage. 

In  the  quiet  possession  of  the  blessings  transmitted, 
we  are,  perhaps,  in  danger  of  forgetting  or  undervalu- 
ing the  sufferings  by  which  they  were  obtained.  We 
forget  that  the  noble  Pilgrims  lived  and  endured  for 
us ;  that  when  they  came  to  the  wilderness,  they 
said  truly,  though  it  may  be  somewhat  quaintly,  that 
they  turned  their  backs  on  Egypt ;  they  did  virtual- 
ly renounce  all  dependance  on  earthly  supports; 
they  left  the  land  of  their  birth,  of  their  homes,  of 
their  father's  sepulchres;  they  sacrificed  ease  and 
preferment,  and  all  the  dehghts  of  sense — and  for 
what  1  To  open  for  themselves  an  earthly  paradise  1 
to  dress  their  bowers  of  pleasure,  and  rejoice  with 
their  wives  and  children  ?  No  :  they  came  not  for 
themselves,  they  lived  not  to  themselves.  An  exiled 
and  suffering  people,  they  came  forth  in  the  dignity 
of  the  chosen  servants  of  the  Lord,  to  open  the  for- 
ests to  the  sunbeam,  and  to  the  light  of  the  Son  of 
Righteousness ;  to  restore  man — man,  oppressed  and 


106  HOPE    LESLIE. 

trampled  on  by  his  fellow — to  religious  and  civil 
liberty,  and  equal  rights ;  to  replace  the  creatures  of 
God  on  their  natural  level ;  to  bring  down  the  hills, 
and  make  smooth  the  rough  places,  which  the  pride 
and  cruelty  of  man  had  wrought  on  the  fair  creation 
of  the  Father  of  all. 

What  was  their  reward  ?  Fortune  ?  distinctions  1 
the  sweet  charities  of  home  ?  No :  but  their  feet 
were  planted  on  the  Mount  of  Vision,  and  they  saw, 
with  sublime  joy,  a  multitude  of  people  where  the 
solitary  savage  roamed  the  forest;  the  forest  van- 
ished, and  pleasant  villages  and  busy  cities  appear- 
ed ;  the  tangled  footpath  expanded  to  the  thronged 
highway  ;  the  consecrated  church  planted  on  the 
rock  of  heathen  sacrifice. 

And  that  we  might  realize  this  vision,  enter  into 
this  promised  land  of  faith,  they  endured  hardship 
and  braved  death,  deeming,  as  said  one  of  their  com- 
pany, that  "  he  is  not  worthy  to  live  at  all,  who,  for 
fear  of  danger  or  death,  shunneth  his  country's  ser- 
vice or  his  own  honour,  since  death  is  inevitable, 
and  the  fame  of  virtue  immortal." 

If  these  were  the  fervours  of  enthusiasm,  it  was  an 
enthusiasm  kindled  and  fed  by  the  holy  flame  that 
glows  on  the  altar  of  God ;  an  enthusiasm  that  nev- 
er abates,  but  gathers  life  and  strength  as  the  im- 
mortal soul  expands  in  the  image  of  its  Creator. 

We  shall  now  leave  the  little  community  assem- 
bled at  Bethel  to  perform  the  last  offices  for  one  who 
had  been  among  them  an  example  of  all  the  most 
attractive  virtues  of  woman.     The  funeral  ceremony 


HOPE    LESLIE.  107 

was  then,  as  it  still  is  among  the  descendants  of  the 
Pilgrims,  a  simple,  affectionate  service  ;  a  gathering 
of  the  people,  men,  women,  and  children,  as  one 
family,  to  the  house  of  mourning. 


I\Iononotto  and  his  party  in  their  flight  had  less 
than  an  hour's  advantage  of  their  pursuers,  and, 
retarded  by  their  captives,  they  v»-ould  have  been 
compelled  to  despatch  them  or  have  been  overtaken, 
but  for  their  sagacity  in  traversing  the  forest ;  they 
knew  how  to  wind  around  morasses,  to  shape  their 
course  to  the  margin  of  the  rivulets,  and  to  penetrate 
defiles,  while  their  pursuers,  unpractised  in  that  ac- 
curate observation  of  nature  by  which  the  savage  was 
guided,  were  clambering  over  mountains,  arrested 
by  precipices,  or  half  buried  in  swamps. 

After  an  hour's  silent  and  rapid  flight,  the  Indians 
halted  to  make  such  arrangements  as  would  best  ac- 
celerate their  retreat.  They  placed  the  little  Leslie 
on  the  back  of  one  of  the  iMohawks,  and  attached 
her  there  by  a  hapins,  or  strong  wide  band,  passed 
several  times  over  her,  and  around  the  body  of  her 
bearer.  She  screamed  at  her  separation  from  One- 
co  ;  but,  being  permitted  to  stretch  out  her  hand  and 
place  it  in  his,  she  became  quiet  and  satisfied. 

The  Mohawk  auxiharies,  who  so  lately  had  seem- 
ed two  insatiate  bloodhounds,  now  appeared  to  re- 
gard the  reciprocal  devotion  of  the  children  with 
complacency ;  but  their  amity  was  not  extended  to 
Everell ;  and  Saco  in  particular,  the  Indian  whom  he 
had  wounded,  and  whose  arm  was  irritated  and 


108  HOPE    LESLilg* 

smarting,  eyed  him  with  glances  of  brooding  malig- 
•nity.  Magawisca  perceived  this,  and  dreading  lest 
the  savage  should  give  way  to  a  sudden  impulse  of 
revenge,  she  placed  herself  between  him  and  Ever- 
ell.  This  movement  aw^akened  Mononotto  from  a 
sullen  revery,  and  striking  his  hands  together  angri- 
ly, he  bade  Magawisca  remove  from  the  English  boy. 

She  obeyed,  and  mournfully  resumed  her  place 
beside  her  father,  saying  as  she  did  so,  in  a  low,  thrill- 
ing tone,  "  My  father !  my  father !  where  are  my  fa- 
ther's look  and  voice  ?  Mononotto  has  found  his 
daughter,  but  I  have  not  found  my  father." 

Mononotto  felt  her  reproach ;  his  features  relaxed, 
and  he  laid  his  hand  on  her  head. 

"  My  father's  soul  awakes !"  she  cried,  exultingly. 
"  Oh,  listen  to  me,  listen  to  me !"  She  waved  her 
hand  to  the  Mohawks  to  stop,  and  they  obeyed. 
"  Why,"  she  continued,  in  an  impassioned  voice, 
"  why  hath  my  father's  soul  stooped  from  its  ever 
upward  flight  ?  Till  this  day  his  knife  was  never 
stained  with  innocent  blood.  Yonder  roof,"  and  she 
pointed  towards  Bethel,  "  has  sheltered  thy  children ; 
the  wing  of  the  mother-bird  w^as  spread  over  us; 
we  ate  of  the  children's  bread ;  then  why  hast  thou 
shed  their  blood.]  Why  art  thou  leading  the  son 
into  captivity  1  Oh,  spare  him  1  send  him  back ; 
leave  one  light  in  the  darkened  habitation  !" 

"  One,"  echoed  Mononotto  ;  "  did  they  leave  me 
one  ?  No  ;  my  people,  my  children,  were  swept 
away  like  withered  leaves  before  the  wind ;  and 
there,  where  our  pleasant  homes  wxre  clustered,  are 


Hope  leslie.  109 

silence  and  darkness ;  thistles  have  sprung  up  around 
our  hearth-stones,  and  grass  lias  overgro\vn  our  path- 
ways. Magawisca,  has  thy  brother  vanished  from 
thy  memory  ?  I  tell  thee,  that  as  Samoset  died,  that 
boy  shall  die.  My  soul  rejoiced  when  he  fought  at 
his  mother's  side,  to  see  him  thus  make  himself  a 
v>'orthy  victim  to  offer  to  thy  lion-hearted  brother  : 
even  so  fought  Samoset." 

Magawisca  felt  that  her  father's  purpose  was  not 
to  be  shaken.  She  looked  at  Everell,  and  already 
felt  the  horrors  of  the  captive's  fate — the  scorching 
fires  and  the  torturing  knives ;  and  when  her  father 
com.manded  the  party  to  move  onward,  she  uttered 
a  piercing  shriek. 

" Be  silent,  girl,"  said  Mononotto,  sternly ;  "cries 
and  screams  are  for  children  and  cowards." 

"  And  I  am  a  coward,"  replied  Magawisca,  re- 
verting to  her  habitually  calm  tone,  "  if  to  fear  ray 
father  should  do  a  wrong,  even  to  an  enemy,  is  cow- 
ardice." Again  her  father's  brow^  softened ;  and  she 
ventured  to  add,  "  Send  back  the  boy,  and  our  path 
will  be  all  smooth  before  us,  and  light  will  be  upon 
it,  for  my  mother  often  said  '  the  sun  never  sets  on 
the  soul  of  the  man  that  doeth  good.' " 

Magawisca  had  unw^ittingly  touched  the  spring  of 
her  father's  vin(Hctive  passions.  "  Dost  thou  use  thy 
mother's  words,"  he  said,  "  to  plead  for  one  of  the 
race  of  her  murderers  ?  Is  not  her  grave  among  my 
enemies  ?  Say  no  more,  I  command  you,  and  speak 
not  to  the  boy ;  thy  kindness  but  sharpens  my  re* 
venge." 

Vol.  L— K 


110  HOPE    LESLIE. 

There  was  no  alternative.  Magawisca  must  feel 
or  feign  submission ;  and  she  laid  her  hand  on  her 
heart,  and  bowed  her  head  in  token  of  obedience. 
Everell  had  observed  and  understood  her  interces- 
sion; for,  though  her  words  were  uttered  in  her  o.vn 
tongue,  there  was  no  mistaking  her  significant  man- 
ner ;  but  he  was  indifferent  to  the  success  of  her  ap- 
peal. He  still  felt  the  dying  grasp  of  his  mother ; 
still  heard  his  slaughtered  sisters  cry  to  him  for  help ; 
and,  in  the  agony  of  his  mind,  he  was  incapable  of 
an  emotion  of  hope  or  fear. 

The  party  resumed  their  march,  and,  suddenly 
changing  their  direction,  they  came  to  the  shore  of 
the  Connecticut.  They  had  chosen  a  point  for  their 
passage  where  the  windings  of  the  river  prevented 
their  being  exposed  to  view  for  any  distance ;  but 
still  they  cautiously  lingered  till  the  twilight  had 
faded  into  night.  While  they  were  taking  their  bark 
canoe  from  the  thicket  of  underwood  in  which  they 
had  hidden  it,  Magawisca  said,  unobserved,  to  Ev- 
erell, "  Keep  an  eagle-eye  on  our  pathway ;  our 
journey  is  always  towards  the  setting  sun;  every 
turn  we  make  is  marked  by  a  dead  tree,  a  lopped 
branch,  or  an  arrow's  head  carved  in  the  bark  of  a 
tree  .;  be  watchful — the  hour  of  escape  may  come.'* 
She  spoke  in  the  lowest  audible  tone,  and  without 
changing  her  posture  or  raising  her  eyes ;  and  though 
her  last  accent  caught  her  father's  ear,  when  he  turn- 
ed to  chide  her  he  suppressed  his  rebuke,  for  she  sat 
motionless,  and  silent  as  a  statue. 

The  party  were  swiftly  conveyed  to  the  opposite 


HOPE    LESLIE.  lH 

shore.  The  canoe  was  then  again  taken  from  the 
river  and  plunged  into  the  wood ;  and  beheving  they 
had  eluded  pursuit,  they  prepared  to  encamp  for  the 
night.  They  selected  for  this  purpose  a  smooth 
grassy  area,  where  they  were  screened  and  defended 
on  the  river  side  by  a  natural  rampart,  formed  of  in- 
tersecting branches  of  willows,  sycamores,  and  elms. 

Oneco  collected  dead  leaves  from  the  little  hol- 
lows, into  which  they  had  been  swept  by  eddies  of 
wind,  and,  with  the  addition  of  some  soft  ferns,  he 
made  a  bed  and  pillow  for  his  little  favourite  fit  for 
the  repose  of  a  w^ood-nymph.  The  Mohawks  re- 
garded this  labour  of  love  with  favour,  and  one  of 
them  took  from  his  hollow  girdle  some  pounded  corn, 
and  mixing  grains  of  maple-sugar  with  it,  gave  it  to 
Oneco,  and  the  little  girl  received  it  from  him  as 
passively  as  the  young  bird  takes  food  from  its  moth- 
er. He  then  made  a  sylvan  cup  of  broad  leaves, 
threaded  together  with  delicate  twigs,  and  brought 
her  a  draught  of  water  from  a  fountain  that  swelled 
over  the  green  turf,  and  trickkd  into  the  river,  drop 
by  drop,  as  clear  and  bright  as  crystal.  When  she 
had  finished  her  primitive  repast,  he  laid  her  on  her 
leafy  bed,  covered  her  with  skins,  and  sung  her  to 
sleep. 

The  Indians  refreshed  themselves  with  pounded 
maize  and  dried  fish.  A  boyish  appetite  is  not  fas- 
tidious, and,  with  a  mind  at  ease,  Everell  might  have 
relished  this  coarse  fare  ;  but  now,  though  repeated- 
ly solicited,  he  would  not  even  rise  from  the  ground 
where  he  had  thrown  himself  in  listless  despair.     No 


112  HOPE    LESLIE. 

excess  of  misery  can  enable  a  boy  of  fifteen  for  any 
length  of  time  to  resist  the  cravings  of  nature  for 
sleep.  Everell,  it  may  be  remembered,  had  watched 
the  previous  night,  and  he  soon  sunk  into  oblivion  of 
his  griefs.  One  after  another,  the  whole  party  fell 
asleep,  with  the  exception  of  Magawisca,  w^ho  sat 
apart  from  the  rest,  her  mantle  wrapped  closely 
around  her,  her  head  leaning  against  a  tree,  and  ap- 
parently lost  in  deep  meditation.  The  Mohawks,  by 
way  of  precaution,  had  taken  a  position  on  each 
side  of  Everell,  so  as  to  render  it  next  to  impossible 
for  their  prisoner  to  move  without  aw^akening  them. 
But  love,  mercy,  and  hope  count  nothing  impossible, 
and  all  Avere  at  work  in  the  breast  of  Magawisca. 
She  warily  waited  till  the  depth  of  the  night,  when 
sleep  is  most  profound,  and  then,  with  a  step  as 
noiseless  as  the  falling  dew,  she  moved  round  to 
EverelPs  head,  stooped  down,  and  putting  her  lips 
close  to  his  ear,  pronounced  his  name  distinctly. 
Most  persons  have  experienced  the  power  of  a  name 
thus  pronounced.  Everell  awakened  instantly  and 
perfectly,  and  at  once  understood  from  Magawisca's 
gestures,  for  speak  again  she  dared  not,  that  she 
urged  his  departure. 

The  love  of  life  and  safety  is  too  strong  to  be  par- 
alyzed for  any  length  of  time.  Hope  was  kindled ; 
extrication  and  escape  seemed  possible ;  quickening 
thoughts  rushed  through  his  mind.  He  might  be 
restored  to  his  father;  Springfield  could  not  be  far 
distant ;  his  captors  would  not  dare  to  remain  in  that 
vicinity  after  the  dawn  of  day ;  one  half  hour,  and 


HOPE    LESLIE.  113 

he  was  beyond  their  pursuit.  He  rose  slowly  and 
cautiously  to  his  feet.  All  was  yet  profoundly  still. 
He  glanced  his  eye  on  Faith  Leslie,  whom  he  would 
gladly  have  rescued ;  but  Magawisca  shook  her  head, 
and  he  felt  that  to  attempt  it  would  be  to  ensure  his 
own  failure. 

The  moon  shone  through  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
and  shed  a  faint  and  quivering  light  on  the  wild 
group.  Everell  looked  cautiously  about  him  to  see 
where  he  should  plant  his  first  footsteps.  "  If  I 
should  tread  on  those  skins,"  he  thought,  "  that  are 
about  them,  or  on  those  rustling  leaves,  it  were  a  gone 
case  with  me."  During  this  instant  of  deliberation, 
one  of  the  Indians  murmured  something  of  his  dream- 
ing thoughts,  turned  himself  over,  and  grasped  Ev- 
erell's  ankle.  The  boy  bit  his  quivering  lip,  and  sup- 
pressed an  instinctive  cry,  for  he  perceived  it  was  but 
the  movement  of  sleep,  and  he  felt  the  hold  gradu- 
ally relaxing.  He  exchanged  a  glance  of  joy  w^ith 
Magawisca,  when  a  new  source  of  alarm  startled 
them  :  they  heard  the  dashing  of  oars.  Breathless — 
immovable — they  listened.  The  strokes  were  quick- 
ly repeated,  and  the  sounds  rapidly  approached,  and 
a  voice  spoke,  "  Not  there,  boys,  not  there  3  a  little 
higher  up." 

Joy  and  hope  shot  through  Everell's  heart  as  he 
sprang  Uke  a  startled  deer ;  but  the  Mohawk,  awa- 
kened too  by  the  noise,  grasped  his  leg  with  one 
hand,  and  with  the  other  drawing  his  knife  from  his 
girdle,  he  pointed  it  at  Everell's  heart,  in  the  act  to 
strike  if  he  should  make  the  least  movement  or  sound. 
K  2 


114  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Caution  is  the  instinct  of  the  weaker  animals ;  the 
Indian  cannot  be  surprised  out  of  his  wariness. 
Mononotto  and  his  companions,  thus  suddenly  awa- 
kened, remained  as  fixed  and  silent  as  the  trees  about 
them. 

The  men  in  the  canoes  suspended  their  oars  for  a 
moment,  and  seemed  at  a  loss  how  to  proceed,  or 
whether  to  proceed  at  all.  "  It  is  a  risky  business,  I 
can  tell  you,  Digby,"  said  one  of  them,  "  to  plunge 
into  those  woods ;  '  it  is  ill  fighting  with  wild  beasts 
in  their  own  den ;'  they  may  start  out  upon  us  from 
their  holes  when  we  are  least  looking  for  them." 

"  And  if  they  should,"  replied  Digby,  in  the  voice 
of  one  who  would  fain  enforce  reason  with  persua- 
sion, "  if  they  should,  Lawrence,  are  we  not  six  stout 
Christian  men,  with  bold  hearts,  and  the  Lord  on  our 
side  to  boot  ?' 

"  I  grant  ye,  that's  fighting  at  odds ;  but  I  mistrust 
we  have  no  command  from  the  Lord  to  come  out  on 
this  wild-goose  chase." 

"  I  take  a  known  duty,"  replied  Digby,  "  always 
to  be  a  command  from  the  Lord,  and  you,  Lawrence, 
1  am  sure,  will  be  as  ready  as  another  man  to  serve 
under  such  an  order." 

Lawrence  was  silenced  for  a  moment,  and  anoth- 
er voice  spoke  :  "  Yes,  so  should  we  all.  Master  Dig- 
by,  if  you  could  make  out  the  order ;  but  I  can't  see 
the  sense  of  risking  all  our  lives,  and  getting  but  a 
*  thank  ye  for  nothing'  when  we  get  back,  if,  in- 
deed, we  ever  get  out  of  the  bowels  of  the  forest 
again  into  a  clearing.    To  be  sure,  we've  tracked 


HOPE    LESLIE.  115 

them  thus  far,  but  now,  on  the  river,  we  lose  scent. 
You  know  they  thread  the  forest  as  handily  as  my 
good  woman  threads  her  needle ;  and  for  us  to  pur- 
sue them  is  as  vain  a  thing  as  for  my  old  chimney- 
corner  cat  to  chase  a  catamount  through  the  woods. 
Come,  come,  let's  head  about,  and  give  it  up  for  a 
bad  job." 

"  Stop,  stop,  my  friends,"  cried  Digby,  as  they 
were  about  to  put  the  boat  around  ;  "  ye  surely  have 
not  all  faint  hearts.  Feare-naught,  you  will  not  so 
belie  your  Christian  name  as  to  turn  your  back  on 
danger.  And  you,  John  Wilkin,  who  cut  down  the 
Pequods  as  you  were  wont  to  mow  the  swarth  in 
Suffolk,  will  you  have  it  thrown  up  to  you  that  you 
wanted  courage  to  pursue  the  caitiffs  ?  Go  home, 
Lawrence,  and  take  your  curly-pated  boy  on  your 
knee,  and  thank  God,  with  what  heart  you  may,  for 
his  spared  life ;  and  all,  all  of  you,  go  to  that  child- 
less man  at  Bethel,  and  say,  '  We  could  not  brave 
the  terrors  of  the  forest  to  save  your  child,  for  we 
have  pleasant  homes,  and  wives,  and  children.'  For 
myself,  the  Lord  helping,  while  I've  life  I'll  not  turn 
back  without  the  boy ;  and  if  there's  one  among  you 
that  hopes  for  God's  pity,  let  him  go  with  me." 

"  Why,  I'm  sure  it  was  not  I  that  proposed  going 
back,"  said  Lawrence. 

"  And  I'm  sure,"  said  the  second  speaker,  "  that 
I'm  willing,  if  the  rest  are,  to  try  our  luck  farther." 

"  Now  God  above  reward  ye,  my  good  fellows  !" 
cried  Digby,  with  renewed  life  ;  "  I  knew  it  was  but 
tryi:ig  your  metal  to  find  it  true.    It  is  not  reason- 


116  HOPE    LESLIE. 

able  that  you  should  feel  as  I  do,  who  have  seen  my 
master's  home  looking  like  a  slaughter-house.  My 
mistress— the  gentlest  and  the  best! — oh!  it's  too 
much  to  think  of.  And  then  that  boy,  that's  worth 
a  legion  of  such  men  as  w^e  are — of  such  as  I,  I 
mean.  But  come,  let's  pull  away,  a  little  farther 
up  the  stream  5  there's  no  landing  here,  w^here  the 
bank  is  so  steep." 

"  Stay  !  row  a  little  closer,"  cried  one  of  the  men ; 
"  I  see  something  like  a  track  on  the  very  edge  of 
the  bank ;  its  being  seemingly  impossible  is  the  very 
reason  why  the  savages  would  have  chosen  it." 

They  now  approached  so  near  the  shore  that  Ev- 
erell  knew  they  might  hear  a  whisper,  and  yet  to 
move  his  lips  was  certain  death.  Those  who  have 
experienced  the  agony  of  a  nightmare,  when  life 
seemed  to  depend  on  a  single  word,  and  that  word 
could  not  be  pronounced,  may  conceive  his  emotions 
at  this  trying  moment.  Friends  and  rescue  so  near, 
and  so  unavailing. 

"  Ye  are  mistaken,"  said  another  of  the  pursuing 
party,  after  a  moment's  investigation,  "  it's  but  a 
heron's  track,"  which  it  truly  was ;  for  the  savages 
had  been  careful  not  to  leave  the  slightest  trace  of 
their  footsteps  where  they  landed.  '^  There's  a  cove 
a  little  higher  up,"  continued  the  speaker ;  "  we'll 
put  in  there,  and  then,  if  w^e  don't  get  on  their  trail, 
Master  Digby  must  tell  us  what  to  do." 

"  It's  plain  w^hat  we  must  do  then,"  said  Digby, 
"  go  straight  on  westerly.  I  have  a  compass,  you 
know  j  there  is  not,  as  the  hunters  tell  us,  a  single 


HOPE    LESLIE.  117 

smoke  between  this  and  the  valleys  of  the  Housatonic. 
There  the  tribes  are  friendly,  and  if  we  reach  them 
without  falling  in  with  our  enemy,  we  will  not  pur- 
sue them  farther." 

"  Agreed  !  agreed  !"  cried  all  the  men  ;  and  they 
again  dashed  in  their  oars  and  made  for  the  cove. 
Everell's  heart  sunk  within  him  as  the  sounds  rece- 
ded ;  but  hope  once  admitted  will  not  be  again  ex- 
cluded, and  with  the  sanguine  temperament  of  youth, 
he  was  already  mentally  calculating  the  chances  of 
escape.  Not  so  Magawisca ;  she  knew  the  dangers 
that  beset  him ;  she  was  aware  of  her  father's  de- 
termined purpose.  Her  heart  had  again  been  rent 
by  a  divided  duty ;  one  word  from  her  would  have 
rescued  Everell,  but  that  word  would  have  been 
death  to  her  father ;  and  when  the  boat  retired,  she 
sunk  to  the  ground,  quite  spent  with  the  conflict  of 
her  feelings. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  the  Indians  did  not  avail 
themselves  of  the  advantage  of  their  ambush  to  at- 
tack their  pursuers ;  but  it  will  be  remembered,  the 
latter  were  double  their  number  ;  and,  besides,  Mon- 
onotto's  object  now  was  to  make  good  his  retreat 
with  his  children ;  and  to  effect  this,  it  was  essen- 
tial he  should  avoid  any  encounter  with  his  pursuers. 
After  a  short  consultation  with  his  associates,  they 
determined  to  remain  in  their  present  position  till  the 
morning.  They  were  confident  they  should  be  able 
to  detect  and  avoid  the  track  of  the  enemy,  and 
soon  to  get  in  advance  of  them. 


118  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  But  the  scene 
Is  lovely  round  ;  a  beautiful  river  there 
Wanders  amid  the  fresh  and  fertile  meads, 
The  paradise  he  made  unto  himself, 
Mining  the  soil  for  ages.     On  each  side 
The  fields  swell  upv^^ard  to  the  hills ;  beyond, 
Above  the  hills,  in  the  blue  distance,  rise 
The  mighty  columns  with  which  earth  props  heaven. 

There  is  a  tale  about  these  gray  old  rocks, 
A  sad  tradition."  Bryant. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  describe,  step  by  step,  the 
progress  of  the  Indian  fugitives.  Their  sagacity  in 
traversing  their  native  forests,  their  skill  in  following 
and  eluding  an  enemy,  and  all  their  politic  devices, 
have  been  so  well  described  in  a  recent  popular  work, 
that  their  usages  have  become  famihar  as  household 
words,  and  nothing  remains  but  to  shelter  defects  ot 
skill  and  knowledge  under  the  veil  of  silence,  since 
we  hold  it  to  be  an  immutable  maxim,  that  a  thing 
had  better  not  be  done  than  be  ill  done. 

Suffice  it  to  say,  then,  that  the  savages,  after 
crossing  the  track  of  their  pursuers,  threaded  the  for- 
est with  as  little  apparent  uncertainty  as  to  their  path 
as  is  now  felt  by  travellers  who  pass  through  the 
same  still  romantic  country  in  a  stagecoach  and  on 
a  broad  turnpike.  As  they  receded  from  the  Con- 
necticut the  pine  levels  disappeared,  the  country  was 
broken  into  hills,  and  rose  into  high  mountains. 


HOI^E    LESLIE.  llS) 

They  traversed  the  precipitous  sides  of  a  river  that, 
swollen  by  the  vernal  rains,  wound  its  way  among 
the  hills,  foaming  and  raging  like  an  angry  monarch. 
The  river,  as  they  traced  its  course,  dwindled  to  a 
mountain  rill,  but  still  retaining  its  impetuous  char- 
acter, leaping  and  tumbling  for  miles  through  a  de- 
scending defile,  between  high  mountains,  wdiose 
stillness,  grandeur,  and  immobility  contrasted  with 
the  noisy,  reckless  little  stream  as  stern  manhood 
with  infancy.  In  one  place,  which  the  Indians  call- 
ed the  throat  of  the  mountain,  they  w^ere  obliged  to 
betake  themselves  to  the  channel  of  the  brook,  there 
not  being  room  on  its  margin  for  a  footpath.  The 
branches  of  the  trees  that  grew  from  the  rocky  and 
precipitous  declivities  on  each  side  met  and  inter- 
laced, forming  a  sylvan  canopy  over  the  imprisoned 
stream.  To  INIagawisca,  whose  imagination  breath- 
ed a  living  spirit  into  all  the  objects  of  Nature,  it 
seemed  as  if  the  spirits  of  the  w^ood  had  stooped  to 
listen  to  its  sweet  music. 

After  tracing  this  little  sociable  rill  to  its  source, 
they  again  plunged  into  the  silent  forest,  waded 
through  marshy  ravines,  and  mounted  to  the  summits  . 
of  steril  hills,  till  at  length,  at  the  close  of  the  third 
day,  after  having  gradually  descended  for  several 
miles,  the  hills  on  one  side  receded,  and  left  a  httle 
interval  of  meadow,  through  w^hich  they  wound  into 
the  lower  valley  of  the  Housatonic. 

This  continued  and  difficult  march  had  been  sus- 
tained by  Everell  with  a  spirit  and  fortitude  that  ev- 
idently won  the  favour  of  the  savages,  who  always 


I'SO  fiOPE    LESLlfi. 

render  homage  to  superiority  over  physical  evil. 
There  was  something  more  than  this  common  feel- 
ing in  the  joy  with  which  Mononotto  noted  the  boy's 
silent  endurance,  and  even  contempt  of  pain.  One 
noble  victim  seemed  to  him  better  than  a  "  human 
hecatomb."  In  proportion  to  his  exultation  in  pos- 
sessing an  object  worthy  to  avenge  his  son,  was  his 
fear  that  his  victim  would  escape  from  him.  During 
the  march,  Everell  had  twice,  aided  by  Magawisca, 
nearly  achieved  his  liberty.  These  detected  conspir- 
acies, though  defeated,  rendered  the  chief  impatient 
to  execute  his  vengeance,  and  he  secretly  resolved 
that  it  should  not  be  delayed  longer  than  the  mor- 
row. 

As  the  fugitives  emerged  from  the  narrow  dejflle, 
a  new  scene  opened  upon  them ;  a  scene  of  valley 
and  hill,  river  and  meadow,  surrounded  by  mountains, 
whose  encircling  embrace  expressed  protection  and 
love  to  the  gentle  spirits  of  the  valley.  A  light 
summer  shower  had  just  fallen,  and  the  clouds,  "  in 
thousand  liveries  dight,"  had  risen  from  the  western 
horizon,  and  hung  their  rich  draperies  about  the  clear 
sun.  The  horizontal  rays  passed  over  the  valley, 
and  flushed  the  upper  branches  of  the  trees,  the  sum- 
mits of  the  hills,  and  the  mountains  with  a  flood  of 
light,  while  the  low  grounds,  reposing  in  deep  shad- 
ow, presented  one  of  those  striking  and  accidental 
contrasts  in  nature  that  a  painter  would  have  select- 
ed to  give  effect  to  his  art. 

The  gentle  Housatonic  wound  through  the  depths 
of  the  valley,  in  some  parts  contracted  to  a  narrow 


ilOPE    LESLIE.  121 

channel,  and  murmuring*  over  the  rocks  that  rippled 
its  surface,  and  in  others  spreading  wide  its  clear 
mirror,  and  lingering  like  a  lover  amid  the  vines, 
trees,  and  flowers  that  fringed  its  banks.  Thus  it 
flows  now^  j  but  not,  as  then,  in  the  s^dvan  freedom 
of  Nature,  when  no  clattering  mills  and  bustling  fac- 
tories threw  their  prosaic  shadows  over  the  silver 
waters;  when  not  even  a  bridge  spanned  their  bo- 
som ;  when  not  a  trace  of  man's  art  was  seen,  save 
the  little  bark  canoe  that  glided  over  them,  or  lay 
idly  moored  along  the  shore.  The  savage  was  rather 
the  vassal  than  the  master  of  nature,  obeying  her 
laws,  but  never  usurping  her  dominion.  He  only 
used  the  land  she  prepared,  and  cast  in  his  corn  but 
where  she  seemed  to  invite  him  by  mellowing  and 
upheaving  the  rich  mould.  He  did  not  presume  to 
hew  down  her  trees,  the  proud  crest  of  her  uplands, 
and  convert  them  into  "  russet  lawns  and  fallows 
gray."  The  axeman's  stroke,  that  music  to  the  set- 
tler^s  ear,  never  then  violated  the  peace  of  Nature,  or 
made  discord- in  her  music. 

Imagination  may  be  indulged  in  lingering  for  a 
moment  in  those  dusky  regions  of  the  past,  but  it  is 
not  permitted  to  reasonable,  instructed  man  to  admire 
or  regret  tribes  of  human  beings  who  lived  and  died, 
leaving  scarcely  a  more  enduring  memorial  than  the 
forsaken  nest  that  vanishes  before  one  winter's  storms. 

But  to  return  to  our  wanderers.  They  had  entered 
the  expanded  vale  by  following  the  windings  of  the 
Housatonic  around  a  hill,  conical  and  easy  of  ascent, 
excepting  on  that  side  which  overlooked  the  river, 

Vol.  L— L 


12^  HOPE  LEStlEi 

where,  half  way  from  the  base  to  the  summit,  rose  a 
perpendicular  rock,  bearing  on  its  beetling  front  the 
age  of  centuries.  On  every  other  side  the  hill  was 
garlanded  with  laurels,  now  in  full  and  profuse 
bloom,  here  and  there  surmounted  by  an  intervening 
pine,  spruce,  or  hemlock,  whose  seared  winter  foli- 
age was  fringed  with  the  bright,  tender  sprouts  of 
spring.  We  believe  there  is  a  chord  even  in  the 
heart  of  savage  man  that  responds  to  the  voice  of 
Nature.  Certain  it  is,  the  party  paused,  as  it  appear- 
ed, from  a  common  instinct,  at  a  little  grassy  nook, 
formed  by  the  curve  of  the  hill,  to  gaze  on  this  sin- 
gularly beautiful  spot.  Everell  looked  on  the  smoke 
that  curled  from  the  huts  of  the  village,  imbosomed 
in  pine-trees  on  the  adjacent  plain.  The  scene  to 
him  breathed  peace  and  happiness,  and  gushing 
thoughts  of  home  filled  his  eyes  with  tears.  Oneco 
plucked  clusters  of  laurels,  and  decked  his  little  fa- 
vourite, and  the  ojd  chief  fixed  his  melancholy  eye 
on  a  solitary  pine,  scathed  and  blasted  by  tempests, 
that,  rooted  in  the  ground  where  he  stood,  lifted  its 
topmost  branches  to  the  bare  rock,  where  they  seem- 
ed, in  their  wild  desolation,  to  brave  the  elemental 
fury  that  had  stripped  them  of  beauty  and  life. 

The  leafless  tree  was  truly,  as  it  appeared  to  the 
eye  of  Mononotto,  a  fit  emblem  of  the  chieftain  of  a 
ruined  tribe.  "  See  you,  child,"  he  said,  addressing 
Magawisca,  "  those  unearthed  roots  ?  the  tree  must 
fall :  hear  you  the  death-song  that  wails  through 
those  blasted  branches  ?" 

"  Nay,  father,  listen  not  to  the  sad  strain ',  it  is 


HOPE    LESLIE.  123 

but  the  spirit  of  the  tree  mourning  over  its  decay ; 
rather  turn  thine  ear  to  the  glad  song  of  this  bright 
stream,  image  of  the  good.  She  nourishes  the  aged 
trees,  and  cherishes  the  tender  flowerets,  and  her  song 
is  ever  of  happiness  till  she  reaches  the  great  sea, 
image  of  our  eternity." 

*'  Speak  not  to  me  of  happiness,  Magawisca ;  it 
has  vanished  with  the  smoke  of  our  homes.  I  tell 
ye,  the  spirits  of  our  race  are  gathered  about  this 
blasted  tree.  Samoset  points  to  that  rock — that  sac- 
rifice-rock." His  keen  glance  turned  from  the  rock 
to  EverelL 

Magawisca  understood  its  portentous  meaning, 
and  she  clasped  her  hands  in  mute  and  agonizing 
supplication.  He  answered  to  the  silent  entreaty. 
"  It  is  in  vain ;  my  purpose  is  fixed,  and  here  it  shaH 
be  accomplished.  Why  hast  thou  linked  thy  heart, 
foolish  girl,  to  this  English  boy  ?  I  have  sworn, 
kneeling  on  the  ashes  of  our  hut,  that  I  would  never 
spare  a  son  of  our  enemy's  race.  The  lights  of  heav- 
en witnessed  my  vow,  and  think  you  that,  now  this 
boy  is  given  into  my  hands  to  avenge  thy  brother,  I 
will  spare  him  ?  no,  not  to  thy  prayer,  Magawisca. 
No;  though  thou  lookest  on  me  with  thy  mother's 
eye,  and  speakest  with  her  voice,  I  will  not  break 
my  vow." 

Mononotto  had  indeed  taken  a  final  and  fatal  res- 
olution ;  and  prompted,  as  he  fancied,  by  supernat- 
ural intimations,  and  perhaps  dreading  the  relent- 
ings  of  his  own  heart,  he  determined  on  its  imme- 
diate execution.     He  announced  his  decision  to  the 


124  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Mohawks.  A  brief  and  animated  consultation  fol- 
lowed, during  which  they  brandished  their  toma- 
hawks, and  cast  wild  and  threatening  glances  at 
Everell,  who  at  once  comprehended  the  meaning  of 
these  menacing  looks  and  gestures.  He  turned  an 
appealing  glance  to  Magawisca.  She  did  not  speak. 
"  Am  I  to  die  now  ?"  he  asked ;  she  turned,  shud- 
dering, from  him. 

Everell  had  expected  death  from  his  savage  cap- 
tors, but   while   it  was   comparatively   distant   he 
thought  he  was  indifferent  to  it,  or,  rather,  he  believ- 
ed he  should  welcome  it  as  a  release  from  the  horrible 
recollection  of  the  massacre  at  Bethel,  which  haunt- 
ed him  day  and  night.     But,  now  that  his  fate  seem- 
ed inevitable,  nature  was  appalled,  and  shrunk  from 
it,  and  the  impassive  spirit  for  a  moment  endured 
a  pang  that  there  cannot  be  in  any  "  corp'ral  suffer- 
ance."    The  avenues  of  sense  were  closed,  and  past 
and  future  w^ere  present  to  the  mind,  as  if  it  were 
already  invested  with  the  attributes  of  its  eternity. 
From  this  agonizing  excitement  Everell  was  roused 
by  a  command  from  the  savages  to  move  onward. 
"It  is   then  deferred,"  thought  Magawisca;   and 
heaving  a  deep  sigh,  as  if  for  a  moment  relieved 
from    a    pressure  on   her  overburdened  heart,  she 
looked  to  her  father  for  an  explanation;   he  said 
nothing,  but  proceeded  in  silence  towards  the  village. 
The  lower  valley  of  the  Housatonic,  at  the  period 
to  which  our  history  refers,  was  inhabited  by  a  peace- 
ful, and,  as  far  as  that  epithet  could  ever  be  applied 
to  our  savages,  an  agricultural  tribe,  whose  territory, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  125 

situate  midway  between  the  Hudson  and  the  Con- 
necticut, was  bounded  and  defended  on  each  side 
by  mountains  then  deemed  impracticable  to  a  foe. 
These  inland  people  had  heard  from  the  hunters  of 
distant  tribes,  who  occasionally  visited  them,  of  the 
aggressions  and  hostility  of  the  English  strangers; 
but,  regarding  it  as  no  concern  of  theirs,  they  listened 
much  as  we  listen  to  news  of  the  Burmese  war — 
Captain  Symmes'  theory — or  lectures  on  phrenology. 
One  of  their  hunters,  it  is  true,  had  penetrated  to 
Springfield,  and  another  had  passed  over  the  hills  to 
the  Dutch  fort  at  Albany,  and  returned  with  the  re- 
port that  the  strangers'  skin  was  the  colour  of  cow- 
ardice ;  that  they  served  their  women,  and  spoke  an 
miinteUigible  language.  There  was  little  in  this  ac- 
count to  interest  those  who  were  so  ignorant  as  to  be 
scarcely  susceptible  of  curiosity,  and  they  hardly 
thought  of  the  dangerous  strangers  at  all,  or  only 
thought  of  them  as  a  people  from  whom  they  had 
nothing  to  hope  or  fear,  when  the  appearance  of  the 
ruined  Pequod  chief  with  his  English  captives  roused 
them  from  their  apathy. 

The  village  was  on  a  level,  sandy  plain,  extend- 
ing for  about  half  a  mile,  and  raised  by  a  natural 
and  almost  perpendicular  bank  fifty  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  meadows.  At  one  extremity  of  the  plain 
was  the  hill  we  have  described ;  the  other  was  ter- 
minated by  a  broad  green,  appropriated  to  sports 
and  councils. 

The  huts  of  the  savages  were  irregularly  scattered 
over  the  plain :  some  on  cleared  ground,  and  others 
L2 


126  HOPE    LESLIE. 

just  peeping  out  of  copses  of  pine  trees;  some  on 
the  very  verge  of  the  plain,  overlooking  the  mead- 
ows, and  others  under  the  shelter  of  a  high  hill 
that  formed  the  northern  boundary  of  the  valley, 
and  seemed  stationed  there  to  defend  the  inhabitants 
from  their  natural  enemies,  cold  and  wind. 

The  huts  were  the  simplest  structures  of  human 
art ;  but,  as  in  no  natural  condition  of  society  a  per- 
fect equality  obtains,  some  were  more  spacious  and 
commodious  than  others.  All  were  made  with  flex- 
ible poles,  firmly  set  in  the  ground,  and  drawn  and 
attached  together  at  the  top.  Those  of  the  more  in- 
dolent or  least  skilful  were  filled  in  with  branches 
of  trees  and  hung  over  with  coarse  mats,  while 
those  of  the  better  order  were  neatly  covered  with 
bark,  prepared  with  art  and  considerable  labour  for 
the  purpose.  Little  garden  patches  adjoined  a  few 
of  the  dwellings,  and  were  planted  with  beans, 
pumpkins,  and  squashes ;  the  seeds  of  these  vegeta- 
bles, according  to  an  Indian  tradition  (in  which  w^e 
may  perceive  the  usual  admixture  of  fable  and  truth), 
having  been  sent  to  them  in  the  bill  of  a  bird  from 
the  southwest  by  the  Great  Spirit. 

The  Pequod  chief  and  his  retinue  passed  just  at 
twilight  over  the  plain,  by  one  of  the  many  foot- 
paths that  indented  it.  Many  of  the  w^omen  were 
still  at  work  with  their  stone-pointed  hoes  in  their 
gardens.  Some  of  the  men  and  children  were  at 
their  sports  on  the  green.  Here  a  straggler  w^as 
coming  from  the  river  with  a  string  of  fine  trout; 
another  fortunate  sportsman  appeared  from  the  hill- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  127 

side  with  wild  turkeys  and  partridges;  while  two 
emerged  from  the  forest  with  still  more  noble  game, 
a  fat  antlered  buck. 

This  village,  as  we  have  described  it,  and  perhaps 
from  the  affection  its  natural  beauty  inspired,  re- 
mained the  residence  of  the  savages  long  after  they 
had  vanished  from  the  surrounding  country.  With- 
in the  memory  of  the  present  generation  the  remnant 
of  the  tribe  migrated  to  the  West;  and  even  now 
some  of  their  famihes  make  a  summer  pilgrimage  to 
this  their  Jerusalem,  and  are  regarded  with  a  mel- 
ancholy interest  by  the  present  occupants  of  the  soil. 

Mononotto  directed  his  steps  to  the  wigwam  of 
the  Housatonic  chief,  which  stood  on  one  side  of  the 
green.  The  chief  advanced  from  his  hut  to  receive 
him,  and  by  the  most  animated  gestures  expressed 
to  Mononotto  his  pleasure  in  the  success  of  his  in- 
cursion, from  which  it  seemed  that  Mononotto  had 
communicated  with  him  on  his  way  to  the  Connec- 
ticut. 

A  brief  and  secret  consultation  succeeded,  which 
appeared  to  consist  of  propositions  from  the  Pequod, 
and  assent  on  the  part  of  the  Housatonic  chief,  and 
w^as  immediately  followed  by  a  motion  to  separate 
the  travellers.  Mononotto  and  Everell  w^ere  to  re- 
main with  the  chief,  and  the  rest  of  the  party  to  be 
conducted  to  the  hut  of  his  sister. 

Magawisca's  prophetic  spirit  too  truly  interpreted 
this  arrangement;  and  thinking  or  hoping  there 
might  be  some  saving  power  in  her  presence,  since 
her  father  tacitly  acknowledged  it  by  the  pains  he 


128  HOPE    LESLIE. 

took  to  remove  her,  she  refused  to  leave  him.  He 
insisted  vehemently  ;  but,  finding  her  unyielding,  he 
commanded  the  Mohawks  to  force  her  away. 

Resistance  was  vain,  but  resistance  she  would  still 
have  made  but  for  the  interposition  of  Everell.  *'  Go 
with  them,  Magawisca,"  he  said,  '^  and  leave  me  to 
my  fate.     We  shall  meet  again." 

"  Never  !"  she  shrieked  ;  "  your  fate  is  death." 

"  And  after  death  we  shall  meet  again,"  replied 
Everell,  with  a  calmness  that  evinced  his  mind  was 
already  in  a  great  degree  resigned  to  the  event  that 
now  appeared  inevitable.  "  Do  not  fear  for  me, 
Magawisca.  Better  thoughts  have  put  down  my 
fears.     When  it  is  over,  think  of  me." 

"  And  what  am  I  to  do  with  this  scorching  fire 
till  then  V  she  asked,  pressing  both  her  hands  on  her 
head.  "  Oh,  my  father,  has  your  heart  become 
stone  V 

Her  father  turned  from  her  appeal,  and  motioned 
to  Everell  to  enter  the  hut.  Everell  obeyed ;  and 
when  the  mat  dropped  over  the  entrance  and  sep- 
arated him  from  the  generous  creature  whose  heart 
had  kept  true  time  with  his  through  all  his  griefs, 
who  he  knew  would  have  redeemed  his  life  with  her 
own,  he  yielded  to  a  burst  of  natural  and  not  unman- 
ly tears. 

If  this  could  be  deemed  a  weakness,  it  was  his  last. 
Alone  with  his  God,  he  realized  the  sufficiency  of  His 
presence  and  favour.  He  appealed  to  that  mercy 
which  is  never  refused,  nor  given  in  stinted  measure 
to  the  humble  suppliant.     Every  expression  of  pious 


HOPE    LESLIE.  129 

confidence  and  resignation  which  he  had  heard  with 
the  heedless  ear  of  childhood,  now  flashed  like  an  il- 
lumination upon  his  mind. 

His  mother's  counsels  and  instructions,  to  which  he 
had  often  lent  a  wearied  attention ;  the  passages  from 
the  Sacred  Book  he  had  been  compelled  to  commit 
to  memory  when  his  truant  thoughts  were  ranging 
forest  and  field,  now  returned  upon  him  as  if  a  celes- 
tial spirit  breathed  them  into  his  soul.  Stillness  and 
peace  stole  over  him.  He  was  amazed  at  his  own 
tranquillity.  "  It  may  be,"  he  thought,  "  that  my 
mother  is  permitted  to  minister  to  me." 

He  might  have  been  agitated  by  the  admission  of 
the  least  ray  of  hope ;  but  hope  was  utterly  exclu- 
ded, and  it  was  only  when  he  thought  of  his  bereft 
father  that  his  courage  failed  him. 

But  we  must  leave  him  to  his  solitude  and  silence, 
only  interrupted  by  the  distant  hootings  of  the  owl 
and  the  heavy  tread  of  the  Pequod  chief,  who  spent 
the  night  in  slowly  pacing  before  the  door  of  the  hut. 

Magawisca  and  her  companions  were  conducted 
to  a  wigwam  standing  on  that  part  of  the  plain  on 
which  they  had  first  entered.  It  was  completely  en- 
closed on  three  sides  by  dwarf  oaks.  In  front  there 
was  a  little  plantation  of  the  edible  luxuries  of  the 
savages.  On  entering  the  hut  they  perceived  it  had 
but  one  occupant,  a  sick,  emaciated  old  woman,  who 
was  stretched  on  her  mat,  covered  with  skins.  She 
raised  her  head  as  the  strangers  entered,  and  at  the 
sight  of  Faith  Leslie  uttered  a  faint  exclamation, 
deeming  the  fair  creature  a  messenger  from  the  spir- 


130  HOPE    LESLIE. 

it-land;  but,  being  informed  who  they  were  and 
whence  they  came,  she  made  every  sign  and  expres- 
sion of  courtesy  to  them  that  her  feeble  strength  per- 
mitted. 

Her  hut  contained  all  that  was  essential  to  savage 
hospitality.  A  few  brands  were  burning  on  a  hearth- 
stone in  the  middle  of  the  apartment.  The  smoke 
that  found  egress  passed  out  by  a  hole  in  the  centre 
of  the  roof,  over  which  a  mat  was  skilfully  adjusted, 
and  turned  to  the  windward  side  by  a  cord  that  hung 
within.  The  old  w^oman,  in  her  long  pilgrimage, 
had  accumulated  stores  of  Indian  riches  :  piles  of 
sleeping-mats  lay  in  one  corner ;  nicely-dressed  skins 
garnished  the  walls ;  baskets  of  all  shapes  and  sizes, 
gayly  decorated  with  rude  images  of  birds  and  flow- 
ers, contained  dried  fruits,  medicinal  herbs,  Indian 
corn,  nuts,  and  game.  A  covered  pail,  made  of  folds 
of  birch  bark,  w^as  filled  wuth  a  kind  of  beer — a  de- 
coction of  various  roots  and  aromatic  shrubs.  Neat- 
ly-turned w^ooden  spoons  and  bowls,  and  culinary 
utensijs  of  clay,  supplied  all  the  demands  of  the  in- 
artificial housewifery  of  savage  life. 

The  travellers,  directed  by  their  old  hostess,  pre- 
pared their  evening  repast — a  short  and  simple  pro- 
cess to  an  Indian ;  and,  having  satisfied  the  cravings 
of  hunger,  they  were  all,  with  the  exception  of  Mag- 
awisca  and  one  of  the  Mohawks,  in  a  very  short  time 
stretched  on  their  mats  and  fast  asleep. 

Magawisca  seated  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  old 
woman,  and  had  neither  spoken  nor  moved  since  she 
entered  the  hut.     She  watched  anxiously  and  impa- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  131 

tientlythe  movements  of  the  Indian,  whose  appoint- 
ed duty  it  appeared  to  be  to  guard  her.  He  placed 
a  wooden  bench  against  the  mat  which  served  for  a 
door,  and  stuffing  his  pipe  with  tobacco  from  a  pouch 
slung  over  his  shoulder,  and  then  filling  a  gourd  with 
the  liquor  in  the  pail,  and  placing  it  beside  him,  he 
quietly  sat  himself  down  to  his  night-watch. 

The  oltl  woman  became  restless,  and  her  loud  and 
repeated  groans  at  last  withdrew  Magawisca  from 
her  own  miserable  thoughts.  She  inquired  if  she 
could  do  aught  to  allay  her  pain  ;  the  sufferer  point- 
ed to  a  jar  that  stood  on  the  embers,  in  which  a  me- 
dicinal preparation  was  simmering.  She  motioned  to 
Magawisca  to  give  her  a  spoonful  of  the  hquor ;  she 
did  so ;  and  as  she  took  it,  "  It  is  made,"  she  said, 
"  of  all  the  plants  on  which  the  spirit  of  sleep  has 
breathed  :"  and  so  it  seemed  to  be,  for  she  had 
scarcely  swallowed  it  when  she  fell  asleep. 

Once  or  twice  she  waked  and  murmured  something, 
and  once  Magawisca  heard  her  say,  "  Hark  to  the 
wekolis  P  he  is  perched  on  the  old  oak  by  the  sacri- 
fice-rock, and  his  cry  is  neither  musical  nor  merry : 
a  bad  sign  in  a  bird." 

But  all  signs  and  portents  were  alike  to  Magawis- 
ca ;  every  sound  rung  a  death-peal  to  her  ear,  and 
the  hissing  silence  had  in  it  the  mystery  and  fearful- 
ness  of  death.  The  night  wore  slowly  and  painfully 
away,  as  if,  as  in  the  fairy  tale,  the  moments  were 
counted  by  drops  of  heart's  blood.  But  the  most 
wearisome  nights  will  end  ;  the  morning  approach* 

«  Whippoorwill. 


13^  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ed ;  the  familiar  notes  of  the  birds  of  earhest  dawn 
were  heard,  and  the  twilight  peeped  through  the 
crevices  of  the  hut,  when  a  new  sound  fell  on  Mag- 
awisca's  startled  ear.  It  was  the  slow,  measured 
tread  of  many  feet.  The  poor  girl  now  broke  silence, 
and  vehemently  entreated  the  Mohawk  to  let  her  pass 
the  door,  or  at  least  to  raise  the  mat. 

He  shook  his  head  with  a  look  of  unconcern,  as 
if  it  were  the  petulant  demand  of  a  child,  when  the 
old  woman,  awakened  by  the  noise,  cried  out  that 
she  was  dying ;  that  she  must  have  light  and  air  ;  and 
the  Mohawk  started  up,  impulsively,  to  raise  the  mat. 
It  was  held  between  two  poles  that  formed  the  door- 
posts ;  and,  while  he  was  disengaging  it,  Magawisca, 
as  if  inspired,  and  quick  as  thought,  poured  the  li- 
quor from  the  jar  on  the  fire  into  the  hollow  of  her 
hand,  and  dashed  it  into  the  gourd  which  the  Mo- 
hawk had  just  replenished.  The  narcotic  was  boil- 
ing hot,  but  she  did  not  cringe ;  she  did  not  even 
feel  it;  and  she  could  scarcely  repress  a  cry  of  joy 
when  the  savage  turned  round  and  swallowed,  at  one 
draught,  the  contents  of  the  cup. 

Magawisca  looked  eagerly  through  the  aperture, 
but,  though  the  sound  of  the  footsteps  had  approach- 
ed nearer,  she  saw  no  one.  She  saw  nothing  but  a 
gentle  declivity  that  sloped  to  the  plain,  a  few  yards 
from  the  hut,  and  was  covered  with  a  grove  of  trees ; 
beyond  and  peering  above  them  were  the  hill  and 
the  sacrifice-rock ;  the  morning  star,  its  rays  not  yet 
dimmed  in  the  light  of  day,  shed  a  soft  trembling 
beam  on  its  summit.    This  beautiful  star,  alone  in 


MOPE    LESLIE.  133 

the  heavens  when  all  other  lights  were  quenched, 
spoke  to  the  superstitious,  or,  rather,  the  imagina- 
tive spirit  of  Magawisca.  "  Star  of  promise,"  she 
thought,  "  thou  dost  still  linger  with  us  when  day  is 
vanished,  and  now  thou  art  there  alone  to  proclaim 
the  coming  sun ;  thou  dost  send  in  upon  my  soul  a 
ray  of  hope ;  and  though  it  be  but  as  the  spider's 
slender  pathway,  it  shall  sustain  my  courage."  She 
had  scarcely  formed  this  resolution  when  she  needed 
all  its  efficacy,  for  the  train  whose  footsteps  she  had 
heard  appeared  in  full  view. 

First  came  her  father,  with  the  Housatonic  chief; 
next,  alone,  and  walking  with  a  firm,  undaunted  step, 
was  Everell,  his  arms  folded  over  his  breast,  and  his 
head  a  little  inclined  upward,  so  that  Magawisca 
fancied  she  saw  his  full  eye  turned  heavenward; 
after  him  walked  all  the  men  of  the  tribe,  ranged 
according  to  their  age,  and  the  rank  assigned  to  each 
by  his  own  exploits. 

They  were  neither  painted  nor  ornamented  ac- 
cording to  the  common  usage  at  festivals  and  sacri- 
fices, but  everything  had  the  air  of  hasty  preparation 
Magawisca  gazed  in  speechless  despair.  The  pro- 
cession entered  the  wood,  and  for  a  few  moments  dis- 
appeared from  her  sight;  again  they  were  visible, 
mounting  the  acclivity  of  the  hill  by  a  winding,  nar- 
row footpath,  shaded  on  either  side  by  laurels. 
They  now  walked  singly  and  slowly,  but  to  Maga- 
w^isca  their  progress  seemed  rapid  as  a  falling  ava- 
lanche. She  felt  that,  if  she  were  to  remain  pent  in 
that  prison-house,  her  heart  would  burst,  and  she 

Vol.  L— M 


134  HOPE    LESLIE. 

sprang  towards. the  doorway  in  the  hope  of  clearing 
her  passage ;  but  the  Mohawk  caught  her  arm  in  his 
iron  grasp,  and  putting  her  back,  calmly  retained  his 
station.  She  threw  herself  on  her  knees  to  him; 
she  entreated,  she  wept,  but  in  vain :  he  looked  on 
her  with  unmoved  apathy.  Already  she  saw  the 
foremost  of  the  party  had  reached  the  rock,  and 
were  forming  a  semicircle  around  it :  again  she  ap- 
pealed to  her  determined  keeper,  and  again  he  de- 
nied her  petition,  but  with  a  faltering  tongue  and  a 
drooping  eye. 

Magawisca,  in  the  urgency  of  a  necessity  that 
could  brook  no  delay,  had  forgotten,  or  regarded  as 
useless,  the  sleeping  potion  she  had  infused  into  the 
Mohawk's  draught ;  she  now  saw  the  powerful  agent 
was  at  w^ork  for  her,  and  with  that  quickness  of  ap- 
prehension that  made  the  operations  of  her  mind  as 
rapid  as  the  impulses  of  instinct,  she  perceived  that 
every  emotion  she  excited  but  hindered  the  effect  of 
the  potion.  Suddenly  seeming  to  relinquish  all  pur- 
pose and  hope  of  escape,  she  threw  herself  on  a  mat, 
and  hid  her  face,  burning  with  agonizing  impatience, 
in  her  mantle.  There  we  must  leave  her,  and  join 
that  fearful  company  who  were  gathered  together  to 
witness  what  they  believed  to  be  the  execution  of 
exact  and  necessary  justice. 

Seated  around  their  sacrifice-rock — their  holy  of 
holies — they  listened  to  the  sad  story  of  the  Pequod 
chief  with  dejected  countenances  and  downcast  eyes, 
save  when  an  involuntary  glance  turned  on  Everell, 
who  stood  awaiting  his  fate,  cruelly  aggravated  by 


HOPE    LESLIE.  135 

every  moment's  delay,  with  a  quiet  dignity  and  calm 
resignation  that  would  have  become  a  hero  or  a 
saint.  Surrounded  by  this  dark  cloud  of  savages, 
his  fair  countenance  kindled  by  holy  inspiration,  he 
looked  scarcely  like  a  creature  of  earth. 

There  might  have  been  among  the  spectators 
some  who  felt  the  silent  appeal  of  the  helpless,  cour- 
ageous boy ;  some  whose  hearts  moved  them  to  in- 
terpose to  save  the  selected  victim ;  but  they  were 
restrained  by  their  interpretation  of  natural  justice, 
as  controlling  to  them  as  our  artificial  codes  of  laws 
to  us. 

Others,  of  a  more  cruel  or  more  irritable  disposi- 
tion, when  the  Pequod  described  his  wrongs  and  de- 
picted his  sufferings,  brandished  their  tomahawks, 
and  would  have  hurled  them  at  the  boy ;  but  the 
chief  said,  "  Nay,  brothers,  the  work  is  mine ;  he 
dies  by  my  hand — for  my  first-born — life  for  life ; 
he  dies  by  a  single  stroke,  for  thus  was  my  boy  cut 
off.  The  blood  of  sachems  is  in  his  veins.  He  has 
the  skin,  but  not  the  soul  of  that  maxed  race,  whose 
gratitude  is  like  that  vanishing  mist,"  and  he  point- 
ed to  the  vapour  that  was  melting  from  the  mount- 
ain tops  into  the  transparent  ether ;  "  and  their  prom- 
ises like  this,"  and  he  snapped  a  dead  branch  from 
the  pine  beside  which  he  stood,  and  broke  it  in  frag- 
ments. "  Boy  as  he  is,  he  fought  for  his  mother  as 
the  eagle  fights  for  its  young.  I  watched  him  in 
the  mountain-path,  when  the  blood  gushed  from  his 
torn  feet ;  not  a  word  from  his  smooth  lip  betrayed 
his  pain." 


136  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Mononotto  embellished  his  victim  with  praises,  as 
the  ancients  wreathed  theirs  with  flowers.  He  bran- 
dished his  hatchet  over  Everell's  head,  and  cried  ex- 
ultingly,  "  See,  he  flinches  not.  Thus  stood  my  boy 
when  they  flashed  their  sabres  before  his  eyes  and 
bade  him  betray  his  father.  Brothers :  My  people 
have -told  me  I  bore  a  woman's  heart  towards  the 
enemy.  Ye  shall  see.  I  will  pour  out  this  English 
boy's  blood  to  the  last  drop,  and  give  his  flesh  and 
bones  to  the  dogs  and  wolves." 

He  then  motioned  to  Everell  to  prostrate  himself 
on  the  rock,  his  face  downward.  In  this  position 
the  boy  would  not  see  the  descending  stroke.  Even 
at  this  moment  of  dire  vengeance  the  instincts  of  a 
merciful  nature  asserted  their  rights. 

Everell  sunk  calmly  on  his  knees,  not  to  supplicate 
life,  but  to  commend  his  soul  to  God.  He  clasped 
his  hands  together.  He  did  not — he  could  not 
speak ;  his  soul  was 

•'  Rapt  in  still  communion,  that  transcends 
The  imperfect  offices  of  prayer." 

At  this  moment  a  sunbeam  penetrated  the  trees 
that  enclosed  the  area,  and  fell  athwart  his  brow 
and  hair,  kindling  it  with  an  almost  supernatural 
brightness.  To  the  savages,  this  was  a  token  that 
the  victim  was  accepted,  and  they  sent  forth  a  shout 
that  rent  the  air.  Everell  bent  forward  and  pressed 
his  forehead  to  the  rock.  The  chief  raised  the  dead- 
ly weapon,  when  Magawisca,  springing  from  the  pre- 
cipitous side  of  the  rock,  screamed  "  Forbear !"  and 
interposed  her  arm.    It  was  too  late.    The  blow 


HOPE   LESLIE.  137 

was  levelled — force  and  direction  given ;  the  stroke, 
aimed  at  Everell's  neck,  severed  his  defender's  arm, 
and  left  him  unharmed.  The  lopped,  quivering 
member  dropped  over  the  precipice.  Mononotto 
staggered  and  fell  senseless,  and  all  the  savages,  ut- 
tering horrible  yells,  rushed  towards  the  fatal  spot. 

"  Stand  back  1"  cried  Magawisca.  "  I  have 
bought  his  life  with  my  ow^n.  Fly,  Everell — nay, 
speak  not,  but  fly — thither — to  the  east !"  she  cried, 
more  vehemently. 

Everell's  faculties  were  paralyzed  by  a  rapid  suc- 
cession of  violent  emotions.  He  was  conscious  only 
of  a  feehng  of  mingled  gratitude  and  admiration  for 
his  preserver.  He  stood  motionless,  gazing  on  her. 
"  I  die  in  vain,  then,"  she  cried,  in  an  accent  of  such 
despair  that  he  was  roused.  He  threw  his  arms 
around  her,  and  pressed  her  to  his  heart  as  he  would 
a  sister  that  had  redeemed  his  life  with  her  own,  and 
then,  tearing  himself  from  her,  he  disappeared.  No 
one  offered  to  follow  him.  The  voice  of  nature  rose 
from  every  heart,  and,  responding  to  the  justice  of 
Magawisca's  claim,  bade  him  "  God  speed  !"  To 
all  it  seemed  that  his  deliverance  had  been  achieved 
by  miraculous  aid.  All — the  dullest  and  coldest — 
paid  involuntary  homage  to  the  heroic  girl,  as  if  she 
were  a  superior  being,  guided  and  upheld  by  super- 
natural power. 

Everything  short  of  miracle  she  had  achieved. 
The  moment  the  opiate  dulled  the  senses  of  her  keep- 
er, she  escaped  from  the  hut ;  and  aware  that,  if  she 
attempted  to  penetrate  to  her  father  through  the 
M2 


138  HOPE    LESLIE. 

semicircular  line  of  spectators  that  enclosed  him, 
she  should  be  repulsed,  and  probably  borne  off  the 
ground,  she  had  taken  the  desperate  resolution  of 
mounting  the  rock  where  only  her  approach  would 
be  unperceived.  She  did  not  stop  to  ask  herself  if 
it  were  possible ;  but,  impelled  by  a  determined  spirit, 
or  rather,  we  would  believe,  by  that  inspiration  that 
teaches  the  bird  its  unknown  path,  and  leads  the 
goat,  with  its  young,  safely  over  the  mountain  crags, 
she  ascended  the  rock.  There  were  crevices  in  it, 
but  they  seemed  scarcely  sufficient  to  support  the 
eagle  with  his  grappling  talon  ;  and  twigs  issuing 
from  the  fissures,  but  so  slender  that  they  waved 
like  a  blade  of  grass  under  the  weight  of  the  young 
birds  that  made  a  rest  on  them ;  and  yet,  such  is  the 
power  of  love,  stronger  than  death,  that  with  these 
inadequate  helps  Magawisca  scaled  the  rock  and 
achieved  her  generous  purpose. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  139 


CHAPTER  Vm. 

"  Powwow~a  priest.  These  do  begin  and  order  their  service  and 
invocation  of  their  gods,  and  all  the  people  follow,  and  join  inter- 
changeably in  a  laborious  bodily  service  unto  sweating,  especially 
of  the  priest,  who  spends  himself  in  strange  antic  gestures  and  ac- 
tions even  unto  fainting.  Being  once  in  their  houses  and  beholding 
what  their  worship  was,  I  never  durst  be  an  eyewitness,  spectator, 
or  looker-on,  lest  I  should  have  been  a  partaker  of  Satan's  inventions 
and  worships."— Roger  Willia.ms. 

The  following  letter,  written  by  Hope  Leslie,  and 
addressed  to  Everell  Fletcher,  then  residing  in  Eng- 
land, will  show,  briefly,  the  state  of  affairs  at  Bethel 
seven  years  subsequent  to  the  date  of  the  events  al- 
ready detailed.  Little  had  occurred,  save  the  chan- 
ges of  the  seasons  in  nature  and  human  life,  to  mark 
the  progress  of  time. 

"  Dear  Everell  : 

"  This  is  the  fifth  anniversary  of  the  day  you  left 
us — your  birthday  too,  you  know ;  so  we  celebrate 
it,  but  with  a  blended  joy  and  grief,  which,  as  my  dear 
guardian  says,  is  suitable  to  the  mixed  condition  of 
human  life. 

"  I  surprised  him  this  morning  with  a  painting  on 
which  I  had  expended  much  tim.e  and  laid  out  all 
my  poor  skill.  The  scene  is  a  forest  glade ;  a  boy 
is  sleeping  under  a  birch  tree,  near  a  thicket  of  hazel 


140  HOPE    LESLIE. 

bushes,  and  from  their  deepest  shadow  peeps  a  gaunt 
wolf,  in  the  act  of  springing  on  him ;  while,  just 
emerging  from  the  depths  of  the  wood,  in  the  back- 
ground, appears  a  man  with  a  musket  levelled  at  the 
animal.  I  had  placed  the  painting  on  the  mantel- 
piece, and  it  caught  your  father's  eye  as  he  entered 
to  attend  our  morning  exercise.  He  said  nothing, 
for  you  know  the  order  of  our  devotions  is  as  strict- 
ly observed  as  were  the  services  of  the  ancient  Tem- 
ple. So  we  all  took  our  accustomed  places:  I 
mine,  on  the  cushion  beside  your  father ;  yours  still 
stands  on  the  other  side  of  him,  like  the  vacant  seat 
of  Banquo.  Love  can  paint  as  well  as  fear ;  and 
though  no  form,  palpable  to  common  eyes,  is  seat- 
ed there,  yet,  to  our  second  sight,  imagination  pro- 
duces from  her  shadowy  regions  the  form  of  our  dear 
Everell. 

"I  beheve  the  picture  had  touched  the  hidden 
springs  of  memory,  for  your  father,  though  he  was 
reading  the  chapter  of  Exodus  that  speaks  of  the  wise- 
hearted  men  who  wrought  for  the  sanctuary  (a  por- 
tion of  scripture  not  particularly  moving),  repeated- 
ly wiped  the  gathering  tears  from  his  eyes.  Jennet 
is  never  lagging  in  the  demonstration  of  religious 
emotion,  and  I  inferred  from  her  responsive  hems  ! 
and  hahs !  that,  as  there  was  no  obvious  cause  for 
tears,  she  fancied  affecting  types  were  lurking  in  the 
Moops  and  selvages,  and  tenons  and  sockets,  and 
fine  twined  linen'  about  which  your  father  was  read- 
ing. But  when  he  came,  in  his  prayer,  to  his  cus- 
tomary mention  of  his  absent  child ;  when  he  touch- 


HOPE   LESLIE.  141 

ed  upon  the  time  when  his  habitation  was  made  des- 
olate, and  then  upon  the  deliverance  of  his  son,  his 
only  son,  from  the  savage  foe  and  the  ravening 
beast,  his  voice  faltered ;  every  heart  responded ; 
Digby  sobbed  aloud;  and  even  my  aunt  Grafton,'^ 
whose  aversion  to  standing  at  her  devotions  has  not 
diminished  with  her  increasing  years,  stood  a  monu- 
ment of  patience  till  the  clock  twice  told  the  hour ; 
though  it  was  but  the  other  day,  when  she  thought 
your  father  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and  he  started 
a  new  topic,  that  she  broke  out,  after  her  way  of 
thinking  aloud,  '  Well,  if  he  is  going  on  t'other  tack, 
I'll  sit  down.' 

"  When  the  exercise  was  finished,  Digby  gave  vent 
to  his  pleasure.  'There,  Jennet,'  he  said,  rubbing 
his  hands  exultingly,  '  you  are  always  on  the  look- 
out for  witchcraft.  I  wonder  what  you  call  that  1 
It  is  a  perfect  picture  of  the  place  where  I  found  Mr. 
Everell,  as  that  fellow  there,  in  the  frieze  jacket,  is 
of  me ;  and  anybody  would  know  that,  though  they 
would  not  expect  to  see  John  Digby  painted  in  a 
picture.  To  be  sure,  Mr.  Everell  does  not  look  quite 
so  pale  and  famished  as  he  did  when  I  first  saw  him 
sleeping  under  that  birch  tree  :  as  I  live,  she  has  put 
his  name  there,  just  as  he  had  carved  it.  Well,  it 
will  be  a  kind  of  a  history  for  Mr.  Everell's  children, 
when  we,  and  the  forest  too,  are  laid  low.' 

"  Your  father  permitted  the  honest  fellow's  volu- 
bility to  flow  unrepressed ;  he  himself  only  said,  as 
he  drew  me  to  him  and  kissed  me, '  You  have  kept  a 
faithful  copy  of  our  dear  Everell  in  your  memory/ 


142  HOPE   LESLIE. 

"  My  honest  tutor,  Cradock,  and  my  aunt  Grafton 
contended  for  the  honour  of  my  excellence  in  the  art — 
poor  Cradock^  ray  Apollo !  He  maintained  that  he 
had  taught  me  the  theory,  while  aunt  Grafton  boasted 
'her  knowledge  of  the  practice ;  but,  alas  I  the  little 
honour  my  success  reflected  on  them  w^as  not  worth 
their  contest ;  and  I  did  them  no  injustice  in  secretly 
ascribing  all  m.y  skill  to  the  source  whence  the  Co- 
rinthian maid  derived  her  power  to  trace,  by  the  secret 
lamp,  the  shade  of  her  lover.  Affection  for  my  dear 
Everell  and  for  his  father  is  my  inspiration  5  but,  I 
confess,  it  might  never  have  appeared  in  the  mimic- 
ry of  even  this  rude  painting,  if  my  aunt  Grafton  had 
not  taken  lessons  at  the  Convent  of  the  Chartreux  at 
Paris,  and  had  daily  access,  as  you  know  she  has  a 
thousand  times  repeated  to  us,  to  the  paintings  of 
Rossi  and  Albati  in  the  palace  of  Fontainebleau. 

"  But  into  w^hat  egotism  does  this  epistolary  jour- 
nalizing betray  me  ?  The  day  is  yours,  Everell,  and 
I  will  not  speak  again  of  myself. 

"My  aunt,  meaning  to  do  it  what  honour  she 
could,  had  our  dinner-table  set  out  with  massive  sil- 
ver dishes,  engraved  with  her  family's  armorial  bear- 
ings. They  have  never  before  seen  the  light  in 
America.  Your  father  smiled  at  their  contrast  with 
our  bare  w^alls,  pine  tables,  chairs,  &c.,  and  said  we 
looked  like  Attila  in  his  rude  hut,  surrounded  with 
tbe  spoils  of  Rome;  and  aunt  Grafton,  who  has  a 
decided  taste  for  all  the  testimonials  of  her  family 
grandeur,  entered  into  a  warm  discussion  with  Mas- 
ter Cradock  as  to  how  far  the  new  man  might  law- 


HOPE   LESlIi:.  143 

fully  indulge  in  a  vain  show.  By-the-way,  their 
skirmishing  on  the  debatable  grounds  of  Church 
and  State  have  of  late  almost  ceased.  When  I  re- 
marked this  to  your  father,  he  said  he  believed  I  had 
brought  about  the  present  amicable  state  of  affairs, 
by  affording  them  a  kind  of  neutral  ground,  where 
their  common  affections  and  interests  met.  What- 
ever has  produced  this  result,  it  is  too  happy  not  to 
be  carefully  cherished ;  so  I  have  taken  care  that  my 
poor  tutor,  who  never  would  intentionally  provoke  a 
human  being,  should  avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  all 
those  peculiarities  w^hich,  as  some  colours  offend 
certain  animals,  w^ere  sure  every  day,  and  thrice  a 
day,  to  call  forth  my  aunt's  animadversions.  I  have, 
too,  entered  into  a  secret  confederacy  with  Digby, 
the  effect  of  which  is,  that  Master  Cradock's  little 
brown  wig  is  brushed  every  morning,  and  is,  at  least 
once  each  day,  straight  on  his  head.  The  brush  has 
invaded,  too,  the  hitherto  unexplored  regions  of  his 
broadcloth,  and  his  black  stock  gives  place,  on  every 
Lord's  day  at  least,  to  a  white  collar.  Aunt  Grafton 
herself  has  more  than  once  remarked,  that,  '  for  one 
of  these  scholar-folks,  he  goes  quite  decent.'  As  to 
aunt  Grafton,  I  am  afraid  that,  if  you  were  here, 
though  we  may  both  have  gained  with  our  years  a 
little  discretion,  yet  I  am  afraid  we  should  laugh,  as 
we  were  wont  to  do,  at  her  innocent  peculiarities. 
She  spends  many  a  weary  hour  in  devising  new 
head-gear,  and  doth  daily,  as  Jennet  says,  break  the 
law  against  costly  apparel.  Jennet  is  the  same  un- 
tired  and  tiresome  railer.  If  there  are  anodynes  for 
the  tongue  in  England,  pray  send  some  for  her. 


144  HOPE    LESLtU. 

"We  are  going  to-morrow  on  an  excursion  to  a 
new  settlement  on  the  river,  called  Northampton 
Your  father  feared  the  toils  and  perils  of  the  way 
for  me,  and  has  consented,  reluctantly,  to  my  being 
of  the  party.  Aunt  Grafton  remonstrated,  and  ex- 
pressed her  natural  and  kind  apprehensions,  by  al- 
leging that  it  was  *very  unladylike,  and  a  thing 
quite  unheard  of  in  England,'  for  a  young  person 
like  me  to  go  out  exploring  a  new  country.  I  urged 
that  our  new  country  develops  faculties  that  young 
ladies  in  England  were  unconscious  of  possessing. 
She  maintained,  as  usual,  that  whatever  was  not 
practised  and  known  in  England,  w^as  not  worth 
possessing ;  but  finally  she  concluded  her  opposition 
with  her  old  customary  phrase,  ^  Well,  it's  peculiar 
of  you.  Miss  Hope,'  which,  you  know,  she  always 
uses  to  characterize  whatever  opposes  her  opinions 
or  inclinations. 

"My  good  tutor,  who  w^ould  fain  be  my  aegis- 
bearer,  insists  on  attending  me.  You  may  laugh  at 
him,  Everell,  and  call  him  my  knight-errant,  oi 
squire,  or  what  you  will ;  but  I  assure  you,  he  is  a 
right  godly  and  suitable  appendage  to  a  Pilgrim 
damsel.  I  will  finish  my  letter  when  I  return;  a 
journey  of  twenty  miles  has  put  my  thoughts  (which, 
you  know,  are  ever  ready  to  take  wing)  to  flight 


"25th  October,  Thursday — or,  as  the  injunction 
has  come  from  Boston  that  we  be  more  particular 
in  avoiding  these  heathen  designations,  8th  month 
25th,  5th  day. 


HOPE    LESLIE. 


14^ 


"  Dear  Everell :  We  followed  the  Indian  footpath 
that  winds  along  the  margin  of  the  river,  and  reached 
Northampton  without  any  accident.  There  is  but  a 
narrow  opening  there,  scooped  out  of  the  forest,  and 
j\Ir.  Holioke,  wishing  to  have  an  extensive  view  of 
the  country,  engaged  an  Indian  guide  to  conduct 
your  father  and  himself  to  the  summit  of  a  mount- 
ain, which  rises  precipitously  from  the  meadows,  and 
overlooks  an  ocean  of  forest. 

"  I  had  gazed  on  the  beautiful  summits  of  this 
mountain,  that,  in  this  transparent  October  atmo- 
sphere, were  as  blue  and  bright  as  the  heavens  them- 
selves, till  I  had  an  irrepressible  desire  to  go  to 
them ;  and,  like  the  child  who  cried  for  the  horns  of 
the  silver  moon,  should  I  have  cried  too  if  my  wish- 
es had  been  unattainable. 

"Your  father  acquiesced  (as  my  conscience  tells 
me,  Everell,  he  does  too  easily)  in  my  wishes,  and 
nobody  objected  but  my  tutor,  who  evidently  thought 
it  would  be  unmanly  for  him  to  shrink  from  the  toils 
that  I  braved,  and  who  looked  forward  with  dread 
and  dismay  to  the  painful  ascent.  However,  we  all 
reached  the  summit  without  scath  to  life  or  limb, 
and  then  we  looked  down  upon  a  scene  that  made 
me  clap  my  hands,  and  my  pious  companions  raise 
their  eyes  in  silent  devotion.  I  hope  you  have  not 
forgotten  the  autumnal  brilliancy  of  our  woods. 
They  say  the  foliage  in  England  has  a  paler,  sickly 
hue  ;  but  for  our  Western  world — Nature's  youngest 
child — she  has  reserved  her  many-coloured  robe,  the 
brightest  and  most  beautiful  of  her  garments.     Last 

Vol.  I.— N 


146  HOPE    LESLlfi. 

week  the  woods  were  as  green  as  an  emerald,  and 
now  they  look  as  if  all  the  summer-spirits  had  been 
wreathing  them  with  flowers  of  the  richest  and  most 
brilliant  dyes. 

"  Philosophers  may  inquire  into  the  process  of  Na- 
ture, and  find  out,  if  they  can,  how  such  sudden 
changes  are  produced ;  though,  after  all,  I  fancy  their 
inquiries  will  turn  out  like  the  experiment  of  the  in- 
quisitive boy,  who  cut  open  the  drum  to  find  the 
sound ;  but  I  love  to  lend  my  imagination  to  poets' 
dreams,  and  to  fancy  Nature  has  her  myriads  of  little 
spirits  who 

"  Do  wander  everywhere 
Swifter  than  the  moone's  sphere." 

He  must  have  a  torpid  imagination  and  a  cold  heart, 
I  think,  who  does  not  fancy  these  vast  forests  filled 
with  invisible  intelligences.  Have  these  beautiful 
valleys  of  our  Connecticut,  which  we  saw  from  the 
mountain  looking  like  a  smile  on  Nature's  rugged 
face,  and  stretching  as  far  as  our  vision  extended, 
till  the  broad  river  diminished  in  the  shadowy  dis- 
tance to  a  silver  thread — have  they  been  seen  and 
enjoyed  only  by  those  savages  who  have  their  sum- 
mer home  in  them  1  While  I  was  pondering  on  this 
thought,  Mr.  Holioke,  who  seldom  indulges  in  a  fan- 
ciful suggestion,  said  to  your  father,  'The  Romans, 
you  know.  Brother  Fletcher,  had  their  Cenotapha, 
empty  sepulchres,  in  honour  of  those  who  died  in 
their  country's  cause,  and  mouldered  on  a  distant 
soil.  Why  may  we  not  have  ours,  and  surmise  that 
the  spirits  of  those  who  have  died  for  liberty  and 


HOPE    LESLIE.  147 

religion  have  come  before  us  to  this  wilderness,  and 
taken  possession  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  V 

"  We  lingered  for  an  hour  or  two  on  the  mountain. 
Mr.  Holioke  and  your  father  were  noting  the  sites 
for  future  villages,  already  marked  out  for  them  by 
clusters  of  Indian  huts.  The  instinct  of  the  children 
of  the  forest  guides  them  to  these  rich  intervals, 
which  the  sun  and  the  river  prepare  and  almost  till 
for  them.  While  the  gentlemen  were  thus  engaged, 
I  observed  that  the  highest  rock  of  the  mountain  was 
crowned  with  a  pyramidal  pile  of  stones,  and  about 
them  were  strewn  relics  of  Indian  sacrifices.  It  has, 
I  believe,  been  the  custom  of  people,  in  all  ages, 
who  were  instructed  only  by  Nature,  to  worship  on 
high  places.*  I  pointed  to  the  rude  altar,  and  ven- 
tured to  ask  Mr,  Holioke  if  an  acceptable  service 
might  not  have  been  offered  there. 

"  He  shook  his  head  at  me  as  if  I  w^ere  but  little 
better  than  a  heathen,  and  said  '  It  was  all  worship 
to  an  unknown  God.' 

"  *  But,'  said  your  father, '  the  time  is  approaching 
when,  through  the  valleys  beneath  and  on  this  mount, 
incense  shall  rise  from  Christian  hearts.' 

"  ^  It  were  well,'  replied  Mr.  Holioke, '  if  we  now, 
in  the  spirit,  consecrated  it  to  the  Lord.' 

*  "  About  the  cliffs 

Lay  garlands,  ears  of  maize,  and  skins  of  wolf, 
And  shaggy  bear,  the  offerings  of  the  tribe 
Here  made  to  the  Great  Spirit ;  for  they  deemed, 
Like  worshippers  of  the  olden  time,  that  God 
Doth  walk  on  the  high  places,  and  affect 
The  earth — o'erlooking  mountains." — Bryant. 


148  HOPE    LESLIE. 

" '  And  let  me  stand  sponsor  for  it,'  said  I, '  while 
you  christen  it  Holioke.' 

"  I  was  gently  rebuked  for  my  levity,  but  my  hint 
was  not  unkindly  taken  ;  for  the  good  man  has  never 
since  spoken  of  his  namesake  without  calling  it 
<  Mount  Holioke: 

"  My  senses  were  enchanted  on  that  high  place. 
I  listened  to  the  mighty  sound  that  rose  from  the 
forest  depths  of  the  abyss  like  the  roar  of  the  distant 
ocean,  and  to  the  gentler  voices  of  nature,  borne  on 
the  invisible  waves  of  air;  the  farewell  notes  of 
the  few^  birds  that  still  linger  with  us ;  the  rustling  of 
the  leaves  beneath  the  squirrel's  joyous  leap;  the 
whirring  of  the  partridge  startled  from  his  perch; 
the  tinkling  of  the  cow-bell,  and  the  barking  of  the 
Indian's  dog.  I  w^as  lying  with  my  ear  over  the 
rock  when  your  father  reminded  me  that  it  was  time 
to  return,  and  bade  Digby,  w^ho  had  attended  us, 
*  look  well  to  Miss  Leslie's  descent,  and  lend  a  help- 
ing hand  to  Master  Cradock.' 

"  My  poor  tutor's  saffron  skin  changed  to  brick 
colour ;  and  that  he  might  not  think  I  heard  the  im- 
putation cast  upon  his  serviceable  power,  I  stepped 
between  him  and  Digby,  and  said, '  that  with  such 
wings  on  each  side  of  me,  I  might  fly  dow^n  the 
mountain.' 

"  *  Ah,  Miss  Hope  Leslie,'  said  Cradock,  restored 
to  his  self-complacency,  ^  you  are  a  merry  thought 
atween  us.'  He  Avould  fain  have  appeared  young 
and  agile ;  not  from  vanity,  Everell,  but  to  persuade 
me  to  accept  his  proffered  assistance.     Poor  old  man  ! 


HOPE    LESLIE.  149 

he  put  me  in  mind,  as  he  went  after  Digby,  panting 
and  leaping  (or  rather  settling)  from  crag  to  crag, 
of  an  old  horse,  that  almost  cracks  his  bones  to  keep 
pace  with  a  colt.  His  involuntary  groans  betrayed 
the  pain  of  his  stiffened  muscles,  and  I  lingered  on 
every  projecting  cliff  on  the  pretence  of  taking  a 
farewell  look  of  the  valleys,  but  really  to  allow  him 
time  to  recover  breath. 

"  In  the  mean  time  the  gentlemen  had  got  far  in 
advance  of  us.  We  came  to  the  last  rock  of  difficult 
passage ;  Digby  gave  me  his  hand  to  assist  me  in 
springing  from  it,  and  asked  Cradock  to  ascertain  if 
the  foothold  below  was  sure :  a  necessary  precau- 
tion, as  the  matted  leaves  had  sometimes  proved 
treacherous.  Cradock,  in  performing  this  office,  star- 
tled a  rattlesnake  that  lay  concealed  under  a  mass 
of  leaves  and  moss;  the  reptile  coiled  himself  up 
and  darted  his  fangs  into  his  hand.  I  heard  the  rat- 
tle, and  saw  the  poor  man's  deathly  paleness  as  he 
sunk  to  the  ground,  exclaiming  '  I  am  but  a  dead 
sinner !' 

"  Digby  turned  to  pursue  the  snake,  and  I  sprang 
from  the  rock.  I  begged  Cradock  to  show  me  the 
wound  :  it  was  on  the  back  of  his  hand.  I  assured 
him  I  could  easily  extract  the  venom,  and  would  have 
applied  my  lips  to  the  wound,  but  he  withdrew  his 
hand.  Digby  at  that  moment  returned.  '  She  would 
suck  the  poison  from  my  hand,  Digby,'  said  Cradock; 
*  verily,  she  is  but  little  lower  than  the  angels.' 

"  '  What !  Miss  Hope  !'  exclaimed  Digby, '  would 
you  be  guilty  of  self-murder  even  if  you  could  save 
N  2 


150  HOPE    LESLIE. 

the  old  gentleman  from  dying,  and  dying,  as  it  were, 
by  the  will  of  the  Lord  V  I  assured  Digby  that 
there  was  no  danger  whatever  to  me ;  that  I  had 
read  of  many  cases  of  poison  being  extracted  in  that 
way  without  the  slightest  injury  to  the  person  ex- 
tracting it.  He  asked  me  where  I  had  read  such 
stories.  I  was  obliged  to  refer  to  a  book  of  ray  aunt 
Grafton's,  called  '  The  Wonders  of  the  Crusades.' 
This  seemed  to  Digby  but  apocryphal  authority  ;  he 
shook  his  head,  and  said  '  he  would  beheve  such  fa- 
bles nowhere  out  of  the  Bible.'  I  entreated  vehe- 
mently, for  I  well  knew  it  could  not  harm  me,  and  I 
believed  it  to  be  life  or  death  to  my  poor  tutor.  He 
seemed  half  disposed  to  yield  to  me.  '  Thou  hast  a 
marvellous  persuasion,  child,'  he  said ;  '  and  now  1 
remember  me  of  a  proverb  they  have  in  Italy :  the 
lips  extract  venom  from  the  heart,  and  poison  from 
the  wound.' 

"  Digby  again  shook  his  head.  '  Nothing  but  one 
of  those  flourishes  they  put  into  verses,'  he  said. 
*  Come,  come.  Master  Cradock,stir  up  a  manly  spir- 
it, and  let's  on  to  the  fort,  where  we  may  get  help 
it's  lawful  for  you  to  use ;  and  don't  ransack  your 
memory  for  anymore  such  scholar-rubbish  to  uphold 
you  in  consenting  to  our  young  lady's  exposing  her 
life  to  save  the  fag  end  of  yours.' 

"  '  Expose  her  life  !'  retorted  Cradock,  rising  with 
a  feeling  of  honest  indignation  that  for  a  moment 
overcame  the  terror  of  death.  '  Digby,  you  know 
that  if  I  had  a  hundred  lives,  I  would  rather  lose  them 
all  than  expose  her  precious  life.' 


HOPE    LESLIE.  151 

"  *  I  believe  you,  Master  Cradock,  I  believe  you ; 
and  whether  you  live  or  die,  I  will  always  uphold  you 
for  a  true-hearted  man ;  and  you  must  excuse  me  for 
my  boldness  in  speaking,  when  I  thought  our  young 
mistress  was  putting  herself  in  the  jaws  of  death.' 

"  We  now  made  all  speed  to  reach  the  fort ;  but 
when  we  arrived  there  no  aid  could  be  obtained,  and 
poor  Cradock's  death  was  regarded  as  inevitable.  I 
remembered  to  have  heard  Nelema  say  that  she  knew 
a  certain  antidote  to  the  poison  of  a  rattlesnake ;  and 
when  I  told  this  to  your  father,  he  ordered  our  horses 
to  be  saddled,  and  we  set  out  immediately  for  home, 
where  we  arrived  in  six  hours.  Even  in  that  brief 
space  the  disease  had  made  fearful  progress.  The 
wound  was  horribly  inflamed,  and  the  whole  arm 
swollen  and  empurpled.  I  saw  despair  in  every  face 
that  looked  on  Cradock.  I  went  myself,  attended 
by  Jennet  and  Digby,  to  Nelema's  hut ;  for  I  knew,  if 
the  old  woman  w^as  in  one  of  her  moody  fits,  she 
would  not  come  for  any  bidding  but  mine. 

"  Jennet,  as  you  know^  w^as  always  her  w^ont,  took 
up  her  testimony  against  *  the  old  heathen  witch.' 
'  It  were  better,'  she  said,  '  to  die  than  to  live  by  the 
devil's  help.'  I  assured  her  that,  if  the  case  was  her 
own,  I  would  not  oppose  her  pious  preference,  but 
that  now  I  must  have  my  own  way,  and  I  beheved 
the  Giver  of  Life  would  direct  the  means  of  its  pres- 
ervation. 

"  Though  it  was  near  midnight,  we  found  Nelema 
sitting  at  the  entrance  of  her  hut.  I  told  her  my  er- 
rand.   '  Peace  be  with  you,  child,'  she  said.     *  I 


162  HOPE    LESLIE. 

knew  you  were  coming,  and  have  been  waiting  for 
you.'  She  is  superstitious,  or  loves  to  affect  super- 
natural knowledge,  and  I  should  have  thought  no- 
thing of  her  harmless  boast  had  I  not  seen,  by  the 
significant  shake  of  Jennet's  head,  that  she  set  it 
down  against  her.  The  old  woman  filled  a  deerskin 
pouch  from  a  repository  of  herbs  in  one  corner  of  her 
hut,  and  then  returned  to  Bethel  with  us.  We  found 
Cradock  in  a  state  of  partial  delirium  and  nervous 
restlessness  which,  your  father  said,  was  the  imme- 
diate precursor  of  death.  Aunt  Grafton  was  kneel- 
ing at  his  bedside,  reading  the  prayers  for  the  dying. 

Nelema  ordered  every  one,  with  the  exception  of 
myself,  to  leave  the  room,  for  she  said  her  cures  would 
not  take  effect  unless  there  was  perfect  silence. 
Your  father  retired  to  his  own  apartment,  and  gave 
orders  that  he  should  in  no  case  be  diverted  from 
his  prayers.  Aunt  Grafton  withdrew  with  evident 
reluctance,  and  Jennet  lingered  till  Nelema's  pa- 
tience was  exhausted,  when  she  pushed  her  out  of 
the  room  and  barred  the  door  against  her. 

"  I  confess,  Everell,!  would  gladly  have  been  ex- 
cluded too,  for  I  recoiled  from  witnessing  Cradock's 
mortal  agony ;  but  I  dared  in  no  wise  cross  Nelema ; 
so  I  quietly  took  the  lamp,  as  she  bade  me,  and  stood 
at  the  head  of  the  bed.  She  first  threw  aside  her 
blanket,  and  discovered  a  kind  of  wand,  which  she 
had  concealed  beneath  it,  wreathed  with  a  snake's 
skin.  She  then  pointed  to  the  figure  of  a  snake  de- 
lineated on  her  naked  shoulder.  *  It  is  the  symbol 
of  our  tribe,'  she  said.     *  Foolish  child !'  she  contin- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  153 

ued,  for  she  saw  me  shudder,  '  it  is  a  sign  of  hon- 
our, won  for  our  race  by  him  who  first  drew  from 
the  veins  the  poison  of  the  king  of  all  creeping 
things.  The  tale  was  told  by  our  fathers,  and  sung 
at  our  feasts ;  and  now  am  I,  the  last  of  my  race, 
bidden  to  heal  a  servant  in  the  house  of  our  enemies.' 
She  remained  for  a  moment  silent,  motionless,  and 
perfectly  abstracted.  A  loud  groan  from  Cradock 
roused  her.  She  bent  over  him,  and  muttered  an  in- 
cantation in  her  own  tongue.  She  then,  after  many 
efforts,  succeeded  in  making  him  swallow  a  strong 
decoction,  and  bathed  the  wound  and  arm  with  the 
same  liquor.  These  applications  were  repeated  at 
short  intervals,  during  which  she  brandished  her 
wand,  making  quick  and  mysterious  motions,  as  if  she 
were  writing  hieroglyphics  on  the  invisible  air.  She 
writhed  her  body  into  the  most  horrible  contortions, 
and  tossed  her  withered  arms  wildly  about  her;  and, 
Everell,  shall  I  confess  to  you,  that  I  trembled  lest 
she  should  assume  the  living  form  of  the  reptile 
whose  image  she  bore  ?  So  violent  was  her  exercise, 
that  the  sweat  poured  from  her  face  like  rain,  and 
ever  and  anon  she  sank  down  in  momentary  ex- 
haustion and  stupor,  and  then  would  spring  to  her 
feet  as  a  racehorse  starts  on  the  course,  fling  back 
her  long  black  locks  that  had  fallen  over  her  bony 
face,  and  repeat  the  strange  process. 

"  After  a  while — how  long  I  know  not,  for  anxi- 
ety and  terror  prevented  my  taking  any  note  of  time 
— Cradock  showed  plain  symptoms  of  amendment ; 
his  respiration  became  free ;  the  colour  in  his  face 


154  HOPE    LESLIE. 

subsided ;  his  brow,  which  had  been  drawn  to  a  knot, 
relaxed,  and  his  whole  appearance  became  natural 
and  tranquil.  '  Now,'  whispered  Nelema  to  me, 
*  fear  no  more  for  him  ;  he  has  turned  his  back  on  the 
grave.  I  will  stay  here  and  watch  him,  but  go 
thou  to  thy  bed ;  thy  cheek  is  pale  with  weariness 
and  fear.' 

"  I  was  too  happy  at  that  moment  to  feel  weari- 
ness, and  would  have  remained,  but  Nelema's  ges- 
tures for  me  to  withdraw  were  vehement,  and  I  left 
her,  mentally  blessing  her  for  her  effectual  aid.  As 
I  opened  the  door  I  stumbled  against  Jennet.  It 
w^as  evident,  from  her  posture,  that  she  had  been 
peeping  through  the  keyhole.  Do  not  think  me  a 
vixen,  Everell,  if  I  confess  that  my  first  impulse  was 
to  box  her  ears ;  however,  I  suppressed  my  rage,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  my  hfe  was  prudent  and  tempo- 
rizing, and  I  stooped  to  beg  her  to  go  with  me  to  my 
room  ;  I  am  sure  it  was  with  the  timid  voice  of  one 
who  asks  a  favour,  for,  the  moment  we  were  in  the 
light,  I  saw  by  her  mien  that  she  felt  the  power  was 
all  in  her  own  hands. 

" '  It  is  enough,'  she  said,  ^  to  make  the  hair  of  a 
saint  stand  on  end  to  have  such  carryings-on  in  my 
master's  house ;  and  you.  Miss  Hope  Leslie,  that  have 
been,  as  it  were,  exalted  to  heaven  in  point  of  priv- 
ileges, that  you  should  be  nothing  better  than  an  aid 
and  abetment  of  this  emissary  of  Satan.' 

" '  Hush,'  said  I,  *  Jennet,  and  keep  your  breath 
to  give  thanks  for  good  Mr.  Cradock's  recovery. 
Nelema  has  cured  him :  Satan  does  not  send  forth 
his  emissaries  with  healing  gifts.' 


Hope  Leslie.  155 

"  ^  Now,  Miss  Leslie,'  retorted  the  provoking  crea- 
ture, *  you  are  in  the  very  gall  of  bitterness  and 
blindness  of  the  flesh.  Did  not  the  magicians  with 
their  enchantments  even  as  did  Moses  and  Aaron  7 
The  sons  of  darkness  always  put  on  the  form  of  the 
sons  of  light.  I  always  said  so.  I  knew  what  it 
would  come  to.  I  said  she  was  a  witch  in  Mistress 
Fletcher's  time.' 

" '  And  you  spoke  falsely  then,  as  you  do  now, 
Jennet,  for  Nelema  is  no  witch.' 

"  '  No  witch  !'  rejoined  Jennet,  screaming  with  her 
screech-owl  voice  so  loud  that  I  was  afraid  your  fa- 
ther would  hear  her ;  '  try  her,  then ;  see  if  she  can 
read  in  the  Bible,  or  Mr.  Cotton's  catechism;  no, 
no  ;  but  give  her  your  aunt  Grafton's  prayer-book, 
and  she  will  read  as  glib  as  a  minister.' 

" '  Jennet,'  said  I,  '  you  are  mad  outright ;  you 
seem  to  forget  that  Nelema  cannot  read  anything.' 

'•' '  It  is  all  the  same  as  if  she  could,'  persisted  Jen- 
net j  *  her  master  makes  short  teaching  :  there  are 
none  so  deaf  as  those  that  won't  hear.  I  tell  you 
again.  Miss  Hope  Leslie,  remember  Mrs.  Fletcher; 
remember  what  she  got  for  shutting  her  ears  to  me.' 

"  You  will  forgive  me,  Everell,  for  losing  my  pa- 
tience utterly  at  these  profane  allusions  to  your  moth- 
er, and  commanding  Jennet  to  leave  my  room. 

"  She  made  me  bitterly  repent  my  want  of  self- 
command ;  for,  self-willed  as  the  fools  of  Solomon's 
time,  she  determined  to  have  her  own  way,  and  went 
to  your  father's  room,  where  she  gained  admittance, 
and  gave  such  a  description  of  Nelema's  healing  pro- 


166  ttOP^    LESLtfi. 

cess,  that,  late  as  it  was,  I  was  summoned  to  his  pres- 
ence. 

"  As  I  followed  Jennet  along  the  passage,  she 
whispered  to  me,  *  Now,  for  the  love  of  your  own 
soul,  don't  use  his  blind  partiality  to  pervert  his  judg- 
ment.' 

"  I  made  no  reply,  but  mentally  resolved  that  I 
would  task  my  power  and  ingenuity  to  the  utmost  to 
justify  Nelema.  When  we  came  into  the  study.  Jen- 
net, to  my  great  joy,  was  dismissed.  It  is  much 
easier  for  me  to  contend  with  my  superiors  than  my 
inferiors.  Your  father  bade  me  sit  down  by  him.  I 
seated  myself  on  the  footstool  at  his  feet,  so  that  I 
could  look  straight  into  his  eyes  ;  for  many  a  time, 
when  my  heart  has  quailed  at  his  solemn  address,  the 
tender  spirit  stationed  in  that  soft  hazel  eye  of  his — 
so  like  yours,  Everell — has  quieted  all  my  apprehen- 
sions. I  spoke  first,  and  said '  I  was  sure  Jennet  had 
spoiled  the  good  news  of  my  tutor's  amendment,  or 
he  would  not  look  so  grave.' 

"  He  replied, '  that  it  was  time  to  look  grave  when 
a  powwow  dared  to  use  her  diabolical  spells,  mut- 
terings,  and  exorcisms  beneath  a  Christian  roof,  and 
in  the  presence  of  a  Christian  maiden,  and  on  a 
Christian  man ;  but,'  he  added,  *  perhaps  Jennet  hath 
not  told  the  matter  rightly;  her  zeal  is  not  always 
according  to  knowledge.  I  would  gladly  beUeve 
that  my  house  has  not  been  profaned.  Tell  me, 
Hope,  all  you  witnessed  ;  tell  me  truly.' 

"  I  obeyed.  Your  father  heard  me  through  with- 
out any  comment,  but  now  andHhen  a  deep-drawn 


HOPE    LESLIE.  157 

sigh ;  and  when  I  had  finished,  he  asked  '  what  I 
understood  by  the  strange  proceedings  I  had  de- 
scribed.' 

"  *  May  I  not  answer,'  I  said,  ^  in  the  language  of 
Scripture,  "  that  this  only  I  know^,  that  whereas  thy 
servant  was  sick,  he  is  now  W'hole." ' 

"  *  Do  not,  my  dear  child,'  said  your  father,  *  rash- 
ly misapply  Scripture,  and  thus  add  to  your  sin  in 
(as  I  trust  ignorantly)  dealing  with  this  witch  and 
her  familiars.' 

"  I  replied,  *  I  did  not  believe  Nelema  had  used 
any  witchcraft.' 

"  He  asked  me  '  if  I  had  not  been  told  that  some 
of  our  catechized  Indians  had  confessed  that  when 
they  were  pagans  they  were  powwows,  devoted  in 
their  infancy  to  demons;  that  these  powwows  w^ere 
factors  for  the  devil ;  that  they  held  actual  conver- 
sation, and  were  in  open  and  avowed  confederacy 
with  him  V 

"  I  said  '  I  had  heard  all  this,'  but  asked  '  if  it 
were  right  to  take  the  confession  of  these  poor  chil- 
dren of  ignorance  and  superstition  against  them- 
selves.' I  repeated  what  I  had  often  heard  you, 
Everell,  say,  that  Magawisca  believed  the  mountain 
and  the  valley,  the  air,  the  trees,  every  little  rivulet, 
had  their  present  invisible  spirit,  and  that  the  good 
might  hold  discourse  with  them.  '  Why  not  believe 
the  one,'  I  asked,  *  as  well  as  the  other  V 

"  Your  father  looked  at  me  sternly.  *  Dost  thou 
not  believe  in  witchcraft,  child  V  he  said.  While  I 
hesitated  how  to  reply,  lest  I  should  in  some  way 

Vol.  L— 0 


158  iiOPE    LESLIE. 

implicate  Nelema,  your  father  hastily  turned  the 
leaves  of  the  Bible  that  lay  on  his  table,  and  opened 
to  every  text  where  familiar  spirits,  necromancers, 
sorcerers,  wizards,  witches,  and  witchcraft  are  spo- 
ken of. 

"  I  felt  as  if  the  windows  of  heaven  were  opened 
on  my  devoted  head.  As  soon  as  I  could  collect  my 
wits,  I  said  something,  confusedly,  about  not  having 
thought  much  on  the  subject,  but  that  I  had  suppo- 
sed, as  indeed  I  always  did,  that  bad  spirits  were 
only  permitted  to  appear  on  earth  when  there  were 
also  good  spirits  and  holy  prophets  to  oppose  them. 

"  Your  father  looked  steadily  at  me  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, then  closing  the  Bible,  he  said,  '  I  will  not 
blame  thee,  my  child,  but  myself,  that  I  have  left 
thee  to  the  guidance  of  thy  natural  erring  reason ;  I 
should  have  better  instructed  thee.'  He  then  kissed 
me,  bade  me  good-night,  and  opened  the  door  for  me 
to  depart.  I  ventured  to  ask  '  if  I  might  not  say  to 
Jennet  that  it  was  his  orders  she  should  be  silent  in 
regard  to  Nelema.' 

"  '  No,  no,'  he  said  3  '  meddle  no  farther  with  that 
matter,  but  go  to  your  own  apartment,  and  remain 
there  till  the  bell  rings  for  morning  prayers.' 

"  My  heart  rebelled,  but  I  dared  not  disobey.  I 
came  to  my  room,  and  have  been  sitting  by  my  open 
window,  in  the  hope  of  hearing  Nelema's  parting 
footsteps ;  but  I  have  listened  in  vain,  and,  unable  to 
sleep,  I  have  tried  to  tranquilhze  my  mind  by  wri- 
ting to  you.  Poor  old  Nelema  !  if  she  is  given  up  to 
the  magistrates,  it  will  go  hard  with  her,  Jennet  is 


HOPE    LESLIE.  159 

such  an  obstinate,  self-willed  fool !  I  believe  she  will 
be  willing  to  see  Nelema  hung  for  a  witch,  that  she 
may  have  the  pleasure  of  saying '  I  told  you  so.' 

"  Poor  Nelema  !  such  a  harmless,  helpless,  lonely 
being  !  my  tears  fall  so  fast  on  my  paper  that  I  can 
scarcely  write.  I  blame  myself  for  bringing  her  into 
this  hapless  case ;  but  it  may  be  better  than  I  fear. 
I  will  leave  my  letter,  and  try  to  sleep. 


"  It  is  as  I  expected  :  Nelem.a  was  sent,  early  this 
morning,  to  the  magistrates.  She  was  tried  before 
our  triumvirate,  Mr.  Pynchon,  Holioke,  and  Chapin. 
It  was  not  enough  to  lay  on  her  the  crime  of  curing 
Cradock,  but  Jennet  and  some  of  her  gossips  impu- 
ted to  her  all  the  mischances  that  have  happened 
for  the  last  seven  years.  My  testimony  was  extort- 
ed from  me,  for  I  could  not  disguise  my  reluctance 
to  communicate  anything  that  could  be  made  unfa- 
vourable to  her.  Our  magistrates  looked  sternly  on 
me,  and  Mr.  Holioke  said,  ^  Take  care,  Hope  Leslie, 
that  thou  art  not  found  in  the  folly  of  Balaam,  who 
would  have  blessed  when  the  Lord  commanded  him 
to  curse.' 

"  I  said  '  it  was  better  to  mistake  in  blessing  than 
in  cursing,  and  that  I  was  sure  Nelema  was  as  inno- 
cent as  myself.'  I  know  not  whence  I  had  my  cour-^ 
age,  but  I  think  truth  companies  not  with  cowardice ; 
however,  what  I  would  fain  call  courage,  Mr.  Pyn- 
chon thought  necessary  to  rebuke  as  presumption  : 
*  Thou  art  somewhat  forward,  maiden,'  he  said,  '  in 
giving  thy  opinion,  but  thou  must  know  that  we  re- 


160  HOPE    LESLIE. 

gard  it  but  as  the  whistle  of  a  bird ;  withdraw,  and 
leave  judgment  to  thy  elders.' 

"  In  leaving  the  room  I  passed  close  to  Nelema. 
I  gave  her  my  hand  in  token  of  kindness ;  and 
though  I  heard  a  murmur  of  ^  shame !  shame !'  I  did 
not  withdraw  it  till  the  poor  old  creature  had  bowed 
her  wrinkled  brow  upon  it,  and  dropped  a  tear  which 
no  suffering  could  have  extorted. 

"  The  trial  went  on,  and  she  was  pronounced  wor- 
thy of  death ;  but,  as  the  authority  of  our  magistra- 
cy does  not  extend  to  life,  limb,  or  banishment,  her 
fate  is  referred  to  the  court  at  Boston.  In  the  mean 
time,  she  awaits  her  sentence  in  a  cell  in  Mr.  Pyn- 
chon's  cellar.     We  have,  as  yet,  no  jail. 


"  Digby  has  been  summoned  before  the  magis- 
trates, and  publicly  reproved  for  expressing  himself 
against  their  proceedings.  Mr.  Pynchon  charged 
him  to  speak  no  more  against  godly  governors  and 
righteous  government,  for  '  to  such  scoffers  Heaven 
had  sent  divers  plagues  :  some  had  been  spirited 
away  by  Satan,  some  blown  up  in  our  harbours,  and 
some,  like  poor  Austin  of  Quinnepaig,  taken  into 
Turkish  captivity  ! !'  Digby's  feelings  are  suppress- 
ed, but  not  subdued. 


"  How  I  wish  you  were  here,  dear  Everell.  Some- 
times 1  wish  your  mother's  letter  had  not  been  so  per- 
suasive. Nothing  but  that  last  request  of  hers  would 
have  induced  your  father  to  send  you  to  your  uncle 
Stretton.     If  you  were  here,  I  am  sure  you  would 


HOPE    LESLIE.  161 

devise  some  way  to  save  Nelema.  When  she  is 
gone  you  will  never  again  hear  of  Magawisca.  I 
shall  never  hear  more  of  my  sweet  sister.  They 
both,  if  we  may  believe  Nelema,  still  dwell  safely  in 
the  wigwam  of  Mononotto,  among  the  Mohawks. 
These  Mohawks  are  said  to  be  a  fierce  race  ;  and  all 
those  tribes  who  dwell  near  the  coast,  and  have,  in 
some  measure,  come  under  a  Christian  jurisdiction, 
and  are  called  Spraying  and  catechized  Indians,' say 
that  the  Mohawks  are  to  them  as  wolves  to  sheep. 
I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  my  gentle,  timid  sister — a 
very  dove  in  her  nature — among  these  fierce  tribes. 
I  wonder  that  I  am  ever  happy,  and  yet  it  is  so  nat- 
ural to  me  to  be  happy  !  The  commander  of  the  fort 
at  Albany,  at  Governor  Winthrop's  request,  has 
made  great  efforts  to  obtain  some  information  about 
my  sister,  but  without  any  satisfactory  result.  Still 
Nelema  insists  to  me  that  her  knowledge  is  certain  ; 
and  when  I  have  endeavoured  to  ascertain  the  source 
whence  she  obtained  it,  she  pointed  upward,  indica- 
ting that  she  held  mysterious  intelligence  with  the 
spirits  of  the  air  ;  but  I  believe  she  employed  this  ar- 
tifice to  hide  some  intercourse  she  holds  with  distant 
and  hostile  tribes. 


"  What  a  tragi-comedy  is  life,  Everell  I  I  am 
sure  Shakspeare  has  copied  Nature  in  dividing  his 
scenes  between  mirth  and  sadness.  I  have  laughed 
to-day  heartily,  and  for  a  few  moments  I  quite  for- 
got poor  Nelema,  and  all  my  heart-rending  anxieties 
about  her.  My  tutor,  for  the  first  time  since  his 
02 


162  HOPE    LESLIE. 

most  unlucky  mishap,  left  his  room,  and  made  his 
appearance  in  the  parlour.  I  was  sitting  there  with 
aunt  Grafton,  and  I  rose  to  shake  his  hand,  and  ex- 
press my  unfeigned  joy  on  his  recovery.  His  little 
gray  eyes  were  for  a  moment  blinded  with  tears  at 
what  he  was  pleased  to  call  the  '  condescendency  of 
my  regard  for  him.'  He  then  stood  for  a  moment 
as  if  he  were  lost,  as  you  know  is  always  his  w^ont, 
when  a  blur  comes  over  his  mind,  which  is  none  of 
the  clearest  at  best.  I  thought  he  looked  pale  and 
weak,  and  I  offered  him  a  chair  and  begged  him  to 
sit  down  ;  but  he  declined  it  with  a  wave,  or,  rather, 
a  poke  of  his  hand,  for  he  never  in  his  life  made  a 
motion  so  graceful  as  a  wave ;  and,  drawing  a  paper 
from-  his  pocket,  he  said,  *  I  have  here  an  address  to 
thecj  s\^eet  Miss  Hope  Leslie,  wherein  I  have  put  in 
a  body  of  words  the  spirit  of  my  late  meditations; 
and  I  have  endeavoured  to  express,  in  the  best  Latin- 
ity  with  which  many  years  of  daily  and  nightly  study 
have  possessed  me,  my  humble  sense  of  that  marvel- 
lous wit  and  kindness  of  thine,  W"hich  made  thee,  as 
it  were,  a  ministering  angel  unto  me,  when  I  was 
brought  nigh  unto  the  grave  by  the  bite  of  that  most 
cunning  beast  of  the  field,  with  whom  I  verily  be- 
lieve the  devil  left  a  portion  of  his  sj^irit,  in  payment 
of  the  body  he  borrowed  to  beguile  our  first  parents.' 
"This  long  preamble  finished,  Master  Cradock 
began  the  reading  of  his  address,  of  which,  being  in 
the  language  of  the  learned,  I  could  not,  as  you 
knew,  understand  one  word ;  however,  he  did  not 
perceive  that  my  smiles  were  not  those  of  intelli- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  163 

gence,  nor  hear  aunt  Grafton's  remark,  that '  much 
learning  and  little  wit  had  made  him  as  crazy  as  a 
loon.'  He  had  not  proceeded  far  when  his  knees 
began  to  shake  under  him,  and  disdaining  to  sit  (an 
attitude,  I  suppose,  proscribed  in  the  ceremonies  of 
the  schools,  the  only  ceremonies  he  observes),  he  con- 
trived, with  the  aid  of  the  chair  I  had  placed  for 
him,  to  kneel.  Vvhen  he  had  finished  his  address, 
which,  according  to  the  rules  of  art,  had  a  beginning, 
a  middle,  and,  thank  Heaven  !  an  end,  he  essayed  to 
rise ;  but,  alas !  though,  like  FalstafF,  he  had  an 
'  alacrity  in  sinking,'  to  rise  was  impossible;  for, be- 
sides the  usual  impediments  of  his  bulk  and  clumsi- 
ness, he  was  weakened  and  stiffened  by  his  late  sick- 
ness ;  so  I  was  fain  to  call  Digby  to  his  assistance, 
and  run  away  to  my  own  apartment  to  write  you, 
dear  Everell,  who  are  ever  patient  with  my  Bethel 
chronicles,  an  account  of  what  aunt  Grafton  calls 
'  this  scholar  foolery.' 


"  Yesterday  was  our  lecture  day,  and  I  went  to 
the  village  to  attend  the  meeting.  A  sudden  storm 
of  hail  and  wind  came  on  during  the  exercises,  and 
continued  after,  and  I  was  obliged  to  accept  Mrs. 
Pynchon's  invitation  to  go  home  with  her.  After 
we  had  taken  our  supper,  I  observed  Mr.  Pynchon 
fill  a  plate  bountifully  with  provisions  from  the  table, 
and  give  it,  with  a  large  key  which  he  took  from  a 
little  cupboard  over  the  fireplace,  to  a  serving-woman. 
She  returned  in  a  short  time  with  the  key,  and,  as  I 
observed,   restored   it   to  its  place.      Digby  came 


164  HOPE    LESLIE. 

shortly  after  to  attend  me  home.  The  family  hos- 
pitably urged  me  to  remain,  and,  ascertaining  from 
Digby  that  there  was  no  especial  reason  for  my  re- 
turn, I  dismissed  him. 

"  The  next  morning  I  was  awakened  from  a  deep 
sleep  by  one  of  Mr.  Pynchon's  daughters,  w'ho  told 
me,  with  a  look  of  terror,  that  a  despatch  had  arri- 
ved early  that  morning  from  Boston,  notifying  the 
acquiescence  of  the  court  there  in  the  opinion  of  our 
magistrates,  and  Nelema's  sentence  of  condemnation 
to  death  ;  that  her  father  had  himself  gone  to  the  cell 
to  announce  her  fate  to  her,  when  lo  I  she  had  van- 
ished :  the  prison  door  was  fast,  the  key  in  its  usual 
place,  but  the  witch  was  spirited  away.  I  hurried 
on  my  clothes,  and  trembling  with  surprise,  pleasure, 
or  whatever  emotion  you  may  please  to  ascribe  to 
me,  I  descended  to  the  parlour,  where  the  family 
and  neighbours  had  assembled  to  talk  over  the  strange 
event.  I  only  added  exclamations  to  the  various 
conjectures  that  w^ere  made.  No  one  had  any  doubt 
as  to  who  had  been  Nelema's  deliverer,  unless  a  sus- 
picion was  implied  in  the  inquiring  glances  which 
Mr.  Pynchon  cast  on  me,  but  which,  I  believe,  no  one 
but  myself  observed.  Some  could  smell  sulphur 
from  the  outer  kitchen  door  to  the  door  of  the  cell ; 
and  there  were  others  who  fancied  that,  at  a  few 
yards'  distance  from  the  house,  there  w^ere  on  the 
ground  marks  of  a  slight  scorching  :  a  plain  indica- 
tion of  a  visitation  from  the  enemy  of  mankind.  One 
of  the  most  sagacious  of  our  neighbours  remarked 
that  he  had  often  heard  of  Satan  getting  his  servants 


HOPE    LESLIE.  165 

into  trouble,  but  he  never  before  heard  of  his  getting 
them  out.  However,  the  singularity  of  the  case  only 
served  to  magnify  their  v;onder,  vrithout  in  the  least 
weakening  their  faith  in  the  actual,  and,  as  it  appear- 
ed, friendly  alliance  between  Nelema  and  the  Evil 
One.  Indeed,  I  was  the  only  person  present  whose 
belief  in  her  witchcraft  w^as  not,  as  it  were,  convert- 
ed into  sight. 

"  Everell,  I  had  been  visited  by  a  strange  dream 
that  night,  which  I  will  venture  to  relate  to  you,  for 
you,  at  least,  will  not  think  me  confederate  with  Ne- 
lema's  deliverer. 

"  Methought  I  stood,  with  the  old  woman,  beneath 
the  elm-tree  at  the  end  of  Mr.  Pynchon's  garden ; 
the  moon,  through  an  opening  of  the  branches,  shone 
brightly  on  her  face :  it  was  wet  with  tears. 

" '  I  shall  not  forget,'  she  said, '  who  saved  me  from 
dying  by  the  hand  of  an  enemy.  As  surely  as  the 
sun  will  appear  there  again,'  she  added,  pointing  to 
the  east,  '  so  surely,  Hope  Leslie,  you  shall  see  your 
sister.' 

"  '  But,  Nelema,'  said  I, '  my  poor  little  sister  is 
in  the  far  western  forests  j  you  can  never  reach 
there.' 

"  *  I  will  reach  there,'  she  replied  j  '  if  I  crawl  on 
my  hands  and  knees,  I  will  reach  there.' 

"  Think  you,  dear  Everell,  my  sister  will  ever  ex- 
pound this  dream  to  me  1 

"  I  was  the  first  to  carry  the  news  to  Bethel.  Your 
father  was  in  one  of  his  meditative  humours,  and 
heeded  it  no  more  than  if  I  had  told  him  a  bird  had 


166  HOPE    LESLIE. 

flown  from  its  cage.  Jennet  joined  in  the  general 
opinion,  that  Satan,  or  at  least  one  of  his  emissaries, 
had  opened  the  prison  door  -,  and  our  good  Digby, 
with  his  usual  fearlessness,  maintained,  in  the  teeth 
of  her  exhortation  and  invective,  that  an  angel  had 
wrought  for  the  innocent  old  woman. 


"  A  week  has  elapsed.  It  is  whispered  that  on 
the  night  Nelema  vanished,  Digby  was  missed  by 
his  bedfellow !  strange  depredations  were  commit- 
ted on  Jennet's  larder !  and  muffled  oars  were  heard 
on  the  river ! 

"Our  magistrates  have  made  long  and  frequent 
visits  to  Bethel,  and  have  held  secret  conferences 
with  your  father.  The  purport  of  them  I  leave  you 
to  conjecture  from  the  result.  Yesterday  he  sent  for 
me  to  the  study.  He  appeared  deeply  affected.  It 
was  some  time  before  he  could  command  his  voice ; 
at  length  he  said  that  he  had  determined  to  accept 
for  me  Madam  Winthrop's  invitation  to  Boston.  I 
told  him,  and  told  him  truly,  that  I  did  not  wish  to 
go  to  Boston  ;  that  1  was  perfectly  contented — per- 
fectly happy.  '  And  what,'  I  asked, '  will  you  and 
poor  aunt  Grafton  do  without  me  V 

" '  Your  aunt  goes  with  you,'  he  said ;  ^  and  as  for 
me,  my  dear  child,  I  ha^-e  too  long  permitted  myself 
the  indulgence  of  having  you  with  me.  I  have  a 
pilgrimage  to  accomplish  through  this  wilderness, 
and  I  am  sinful  if  I  linger  to  w^atch  the  unfolding  of 
even  the  single  flower  that  has  sprung  up  in  my 
path.' 


HOPE    LESLIE.  167 

^•^But,'  said  I,  'does  not  He  who  appoints  the 
path  through  the  wilderness,  set  the  flowers  by  the 
wayside  ?  I  will  not — I  will  not  be  plucked  up  and 
cast  away,'  He  kissed  me,  and  said,  *  I  believe,  my 
beloved  child,  thou  wert  sent  in  mercy  to  me ;  but 
it  were  indeed  sinful  to  convert  the  staff  vouchsafed 
to  my  pilgrimage  into  fetters.  I  should  ever  bear  in 
mind  that  life  is  a  race  and  a  warfare,  and  nothing 
else:  you  have  this  yet  to  learn,  Hope.  I  have 
proved  myself  not  fit  to  teach  or  to  guide  thee — nor 
is  your  aunt.  Madam  Winthrop  will  give  you  pious 
instruction  and  counsel ;  and  her  godly  niece,  Esther 
Downing,  will,  I  trust,  win  you  to  the  narrow  path, 
Avhich,  as  the  elders  say,  she  doth  so  steadily  pursue.' 

"  The  idea  of  this  Puritanical  guardianship  did  not 
strike  me  agreeably,  and,  besides,  I  love  Bethel ;  I 
love  your  father — with  my  whole  soul  I  love  him ; 
and,  as  you  already  know,  Everell,  therefore  it  is  no 
confession,  I  love  to  have  my  own  way,  and  I  said  I 
would  not  go. 

" '  You  must  go,  my  chdd,'  said  your  father ;  '  I 
cannot  find  it  in  my  heart  to  chide  you  for  your  re- 
luctance, but  you  must  go.  Neither  you  nor  I  have 
any  choice.' 

'' '  But  why  must  I  go  ?'  I  asked. 

" '  Ask  no  questions,'  he  replied  ;  '  it  is  fixed  that 
you  must  go.  Tell  your  aunt  Grafton  that  she  must 
be  ready  to  leave  Springfield  next  Aveek.  Mr.  Pyn- 
chon  and  his  servants  attend  you.  Now  leave  me, 
my  child ;  for  when  you  are  with  me,  you  touch  at 
will  every  chord  in  my  hearty  and  I  would  fain  keep 
it  still  now.' 


li68    .  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  I  left  him,  Everell,  while  I  could  command  my 
tears;  and  after  I  had  given  them  free  course,  I  in- 
formed aunt  Grafton  of  our  destiny.  She  was  so  de- 
lighted with  the  prospect  of  a  visit  to  Boston,  that  I 
too  began  to  think  it  must  be  very  pleasant ;  and 
my  dread  of  this  straight-laced  Mrs.  Winthrop  and 
her  perpendicular  niece  gave  place  to  indefinite  an- 
ticipations of  pleasure.  I  shall,  at  any  rate,  see  you 
sooner  than  if  I  remained  here.  Thank  Heaven,  the 
time  of  your  return  approaches ;  and  now  that  it  is 
so  near,  I  rejoice  that  your  father  has  not  been  per- 
suaded, by  those  who  seem  to  me  to  take  a  very  su- 
perfluous care  of  his  private  affairs,  to  recall  you 
sooner.  On  this  subject  he  has  stood  firm  ;  satisfied, 
as  he  has  always  said,  that  he  could  not  err  in  com- 
plying with  the  last  request  of  your  sainted  mother. 

"  Aunt  Grafton  charges  me  with  divers  messages 
to  you,  but  I  will  not  add  a  feather  to  this  leaden 
letter,  which  you  will  now  have  to  read,  as  I  have 
written  it,  by  instalments. 

"Farewell,  dear  Everell:  forget  not  thy  loving 
friend  and  sister, 

"  Hope  Leslie." 

As  Hope  had  declined  her  aunt's  messages,  the 
good  lady  affixed  them  herself;  and  here  they  fol- 
low. 

"  To  Everell  Fletcher, 
"  Valued  Sir, 
"  Being  much  hurried  in  point  of  time,  I  would 
fain  have  been  myself  excused  from  writing,  but  Miss 


HOPE    LESLIE.  169 

Hope  declines  adding  to  her  letter  what  I  have  in- 
dited. 

"  In  your  last,  you  mention  being  visited  with  the 
great  cold,  which  I  take,  from  your  account  of  it,  to 
be  the  same  as  that  with  which  we  were  all  shaken 
soon  after  the  coronation  of  his  present  majesty  (God 
bless  him  !).  I  had  then  a  recipe  given  me  for  an  in- 
falhble  remedy  by  the  Lady  Penyvere,  great  aunt, 
by  the  mother's  side,  to  la  belle  Rosette,  maid  of 
honour  to  the  queen. 

"  I  enclose  it  for  you,  believing  it  will  greatly  ad- 
vantage you :  though  Hope  insists  that,  if  the  cold 
has  not  yet  left  you,  it  will  be  a  chronic  disease  be- 
fore this  reaches  you ;  in  which  case  I  would  advise 
you  to  apply  to  old  Lady  Lincoln,  who  hath,  in  her 
family  receipt-book,  many  renowned  cures  for  chron- 
ics. I  remember  one  in  particular,  somewhere  about 
the  middle  of  the  book,  which  follows  immediately 
after  a  rare  recipe  for  an  every-day  plum-pudding. 

"  I  doubt  not  that  years  have  mended  thee,  and 
that  thou  wouldst  now  condemn  the  folly  and  igno- 
rance of  thy  childhood,  which  made  thee  then  deride 
the  most  sovereign  remedies.  Hope,  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  is  as  obstinate  as  ever ;  and  it  was  but  yesterday, 
when  I  wished  her  to  take  some  diluents  for  a  latent 
fever,  that  she  reminded  me  of  the  time  when  she 
and  you,  in  one  of  your  mischievous  pranks,  threw 
the  pennyroyal  tea  out  of  the  window,  and  suffered 
me  to  believe  that  it  had  cured  an  incipient  pleurisy. 
Thus  presumptuous  is  youth !  Hope  is,  to  be  sure, 
notwithstanding  her  living  entirely  without  medicine, 

Vol.  L— P 


itO  HOPE  Leslie:. 

in  indifferent  good  health ;  her  form  is  rather  more 
slender  than  when  you  left  us,  as  is  becoming  at  sev- 
enteen ;  but  her  cheek  is  as  round  and  as  ruddy  as 
a  peach.  I  should  not  care  so  much  about  her  self- 
will  on  the  score  of  medicine,  but  that  her  stomach, 
being  in  such  perfect  order  now,  would  bear  every 
kind  of  preventive,  and  medicines  of  this  class  are 
so  simple  that  they  can  do  no  harm.  I  beheve  it  is 
true,  as  old  Doctor  Panton  used  to  say,  *  your  heal- 
thy people  are  always  prejudiced  against  medicine.' 
I  wish  you  w^ould  drop  a  hint  on  this  subject  in  your 
next  letter  to  her,  for  the  slightest  hint  from  you  goes 
farther  than  a  lecture  from  me. 

"  It  was  very  thoughtful  in  you,  Mr.  Everell,  and 
what  I  once  should  not  have  expected,  to  inquire  so 
particularly  after  my  health.  I  am  happy  to  say, 
that  at  this  present  I  am  better  than  I  have  been  for 
years,  which  is  unaccountable  to  me,  as,  since  the 
hurry  of  our  preparations  for  Boston,  I  have  forgot- 
ten my  pills  at  night  and  my  tonics  in  the  morning. 

"  I  wish  you  to  present  many  thanks  to  Lady  Amy 
for  assisting  you  in  my  commissions.  The  articles 
in  general  suited,  though  the  pinking  of  the  flounces 
was  too  deep.  My  gown  was  a  trifle  too  dark ;  but 
do  not  mention  that  to  Lady  Amy,  for  I  make  no 
doubt  she  took  due  pains,  and  only  wanted  a  right 
understanding  of  the  real  hue,  called  feuille  morte, 
which,  between  you  and  I — sub  rosa,  mind — my 
gown  w^ould  not  be  called  by  any  person  skilled  in 
the  colours  of  silk.  Hope  thought  to  convince  me 
I  was  WTong  by  matching  it  with  a  dead  leaf  from 
the  forest.     Was  not  that  peculiar  of  Hope  1 


HOPE    LESLIE.  171 

"  Now,  Mr.  Everell,  I  would  not  be  an  old  woman 
before  my  time,  therefore  I  will  have  another  silk  of 
a  brighter  cast.  Brown  it  must  be,  but  \i\e\y — live- 
ly. I  will  enclose  a  lock  of  Hope's  hair,  which  is 
precisely  the  hue  I  mean.  You  will  observe  it  has 
a  golden  tinge,  that  makes  it  appear  in  all  lights  as 
if  there  were  sunshine  on  it,  and  yet  it  is  a  decided 
brown  ;  a  difficult  colour  to  hit,  but  by  due  inquiry — 
and  I  am  sure,  from  the  pains  you  were  at  to  procure 
the  articles  I  requested  for  Hope,  you  will  spare  no 
trouble — I  think  it  may  be  obtained. 

"  I  am  greatly  beholden  to  you  for  the  pocket- 
glass  you  sent  me;  it  is  a  mighty  convenient  article, 
and  an  uncommon  pretty  little  attention,  Mr.  Ever- 
ell. 

"  Your  present  to  Hope  was  a  real  beauty.  The 
only  blue  fillet,  and  the  prettiest  of  any  colour  I  ever 
saw  ;  and  such  a  marvellous  match  for  her  eyes — 
that  is,  when  the  light  is  full  on  them  ;  but  you  know 
they  always  had  a  changeable  trick  with  them.  I 
remember  Lady  Amy's  once  saying  to  me  before  we 
left  England,  that  my  niece  would  yet  do  mischief 
with  those  laughing  black  eyes  of  hers.  I  liked  her 
sister's  (poor  dear  Mary — God  help  her  the  while  !) 
better  then ;  they  were  the  true  Leshe  blue.  But 
one  word  more  of  the  fillet.  Your  taste  in  it  cannot 
be  too  much  commended ;  but  then,  as  I  tell  Hope, 
one  does  not  want  always  to  see  the  same  thing; 
and  she  doth  continually  wear  it :  granted,  it  keeps 
the  curls  out  of  her  eyes,  and  they  do  look  lovely 
falling  about  it ;  but  she  wears  it  week-days  and  Suu- 


173  HOPE    LESLIE. 

days,  feast-days  and  fast-days,  and  she  never  yet  has 
put  on  theHenriette^ — do  remember  a  thousand  thanks 
to  Lady  Amy  for  the  pattern — the  Henriette  I  made 
her,  Hke  that  worn  by  the  queen  the  first  night  she 
appeared  in  the  royal  box. 

"  I  should  like  to  have  a  little  more  chitchat  with 
you,  Mr.  Everell,  now  my  pen  has  got,  so  to  speak, 
warm  in  the  harness ;  but  business  before  pleasure. 
I  beg  you  will  remember  me  to  all  inquiring  friends. 
Alas !  few  in  number  now,  as  most  of  my  surviving 
contemporaries  have  died  since  I  left  England. 

"  Farewell,  Mr.  Everell ;  these  few  lines  are  from 
your  friend  and  well-wisher, 

"  Bertha  Grafton. 

"N.B. — It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  think  you 
are  living  in  a  churchman's  family,  where  you  can't 
but  steer  clear  of — you  know  what — peculiarities. 

"  N.B. — Hope  will  have  given  you  the  particulars 
of  poor  Master  Cradock's  miscarriage  ;  his  mind  was 
set  a  little  agee  by  it,  but  he  appears  to  be  mending. 

"  N.B. — The  enclosed  recipe  hath  marvellous  vir- 
tues in  fevers  as  well  as  in  colds." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  173 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  A  country  lad  is  my  degree, 

An'  few  there  be  that  ken  me,  0  ; 
But  what  care  1  how  few  they  be, 
I'm  welcome  aye  to  Nannie,  0." 

Burns. 

There  are  hints  in  Miss  Leslie's  letter  to  Everell 
Fletcher  that  require  some  amplification  to  be  quite 
intelligible.  She  looked  upon  herself  as  the  unhap- 
py, though  innocent  cause,  of  the  old  Indian  woman's 
misfortune ;  and,  rash  as  generous,  she  had  resolv- 
ed, if  possible,  to  extricate  her.  With  the  inconsid- 
erate warmth  of  youthful  feeling,  she  had,  before  the 
grave  and  reverend  magistrates,  declared  her  belief 
in  Nelema's  innocence,  and  thereby  implied  a  censure 
of  their  wisdom.  This  was  certainly  an  almost  un- 
paralleled presumption  in  those  times,  when  youth 
was  accounted  inferiority ;  but  the  very  circumstance 
that  in  one  hght  aggravated  her  fault,  in  another 
mitigated  it ;  and  her  youth  being  admitted  in  ex- 
tenuation of  her  offence,  she  was  allowed  to  escape 
with  a  reproof  and  admonition  of  moderate  length, 
while  her  poor  guardian  was  condemned  to  a  long 
and  private  conference  on  the  urgency  of  reclaiming 
the  spoiled  child.  Various  modes  of  effecting  so  de- 
sirable an  object  were  suggested ;  for,  as  the  Scotch- 
man said  in  an  analogous  case, "  Ilka  man  can  man- 
age a  wife  but  him  that  has  her." 
P  2 


174  HOPE    LESLIE. 

This  matter  had  passed  over,  and  justice  was  pro- 
ceeding in  her  stern  course,  when  fortune,  accident, 
or,  more  truly.  Providence,  favoured  the  benevolent 
wishes  of  our  heroine.  She  had,  as  has  been  seen, 
been  carried  by  an  unforeseen  circumstance  to  the 
house  of  one  of  the  magistrates.  There,  mindful  of 
the  poor  old  prisoner,  whose  sentence  she  knew  was 
daily  expected  from  Boston,  she  had  been  watchful 
of  every  circumstance  relating  to  her,  and  when  she 
observed  the  key  of  her  prison  deposited  in  an  ac- 
cessible place  (no  one  dreaming  of  any  interference 
in  behalf  of  the  condemned),  she  was  inspired  with 
a  sudden  resolution  to  set  her  free.  This  was  a  bold, 
dangerous,  and  unlawful  interposition;  but  Hope 
Leslie  took  counsel  only  from  her  own  heart,  and 
that  told  her  that  the  rights  of  innocence  were  para- 
mount to  all  other  rights  :  and  as  to  danger  to  her- 
self, she  did  not  weigh  it — she  did  not  think  of  it. 

Digby  came  to  the  village  to  attend  her  home,  and 
this  afforded  her  an  opportunity  of  concert  with  him ; 
in  the  depths  of  the  night,  when  all  the  household 
were  in  profound  sleep,  she  stole  from  her  bed,  found 
her  way  to  the  door  of  the  dungeon,  and  leading  out 
the  prisoner,  gave  her  into  Digby's  charge,  who  had 
a  canoe  in  waiting,  in  which  he  ferried  her  to  the 
opposite  shore,  where  he  left  her,  after  having  sup- 
plied her  with  provisions  to  sustain  her  to  the  valleys 
of  the  Housatonic,  if,  indeed,  her  wasted  strength 
should  enable  her  to  reach  there.  The  gratitude  of 
the  poor  old  creature  for  her  unexpected  deliverance 
from  shameful  death  is  faintly  touched  on  in  Hope's 


HOPE    LESLIE.  175 

letter.  She  could  scarcely,  without  magnifying  her 
own  merit,  have  described  the  vehement  emotion 
with,  which  Nelema  promised  that  she  would  devote 
the  remnant  of  her  miserable  days  to  seeking  and  re- 
storing her  lost  sister.  Again  and  again,  while  Hope 
urged  her  departure,  she  reiterated  this  promise; 
and  finally,  when  she  parted  from  Digby,  she  repeat- 
ed, as  if  it  were  a  prophecy,  "  She  shall  see  her  sis- 
ter." 

Young  persons  are  not  apt  to  make  a  very  exact 
adjustment  of  means  and  ends,  and  our  heroine  cer- 
tainly placed  an  undue  confidence  in  the  power  of  the 
helpless  old  woman  to  accomplish  her  promise ;  but 
she  needed  not  this  to  increase  her  present  joy  at  her 
success.  She  crept  to  her  bed,  and  was  awakened  in 
the  morning,  as  she  has  herself  related,  with  the  in- 
formation of  Nelema's  escape.  She  had  now  a  part 
to  play  to  which  she  was  unused  :  to  mask  her  feel- 
ings, affect  ignorance,  and  take  part  in  the  conster- 
nation of  the  assembled  village.  As  may  be  ima- 
gined, her  assumed  character  was  awkwardly  enough 
performed;  but  all  were  occupied  with  their  own 
surmises,  and  no  one  thought  of  her — no  one  except- 
ing Mr.  Pynchon,  who  had  scarcely  fixed  his  eye  on 
her  when  a  suspicion  that  had  before  flashed  on  his 
mind  was  confirmed.  He  knew,  from  the  simplici- 
ty of  her  nature,  and  from  her  habitual  frankness, 
that  she  would  not  have  hesitated  to  avow^  her  pleas- 
ure in  Nelema's  escape  if  she  had  not  herself  been 
accessory  to  it.  He  watched  her  averted  eye,  he 
observed  her  unbroken  silence,  and  her  lips,  that,  in 


176  HOPE    LESLIE. 

spite  of  all  her  efforts,  played  into  an  inevitable 
smile  at  the  superstitious  surmises  of  some  of  the 
wise  people,  whose  philosophy  had  never  dreamed 
of  that  every-day  axiom  of  modern  times,  that  su- 
pernatural aid  should  not  be  called  in  to  interpret 
events  which  may  be  explained  by  natural  causes. 

However  satisfactory  Mr.  Pynchon's  conclusions 
were  to  himself,  he  confined  them,  for  the  present, 
to  his  own  bosom.  He  was  a  merciful  man,  and 
probably  felt  an  emotion  of  joy  at  the  old  woman's 
escape,  that  could  not  be  suppressed  by  the  stern  jus- 
tice that  had  pronounced  her  worthy  of  death.  But 
while  he  easily  reconciled  himself  to  the  loss  of  the 
prisoner,  he  felt  the  necessity  of  taking  instant  and 
efficient  measures  to  subdue  to  becoming  deference 
and  obedience  the  rash  and  lawless  girl  who  had 
dared  to  interpose  between  justice  and  its  victim. 
His  heart  recoiled  from  punishing  her  openly,  and 
he  contented  himself  with  insisting,  in  a  private  in- 
terview with  Mr.  Fletcher,  on  the  necessity  of  her 
removal  to  a  stricter  control  than  his ;  and  recom- 
mended, for  a  time,  a  temporary  transfer  of  his  neg- 
lected authority  to  less  indulgent  hands. 

Mr.  Fletcher  complied  so  far  as  to  consent  that 
his  favourite  should  be  sent  for  a  few  months  to  Bos- 
ton, to  the  care  of  Madam  Winthrop,  whose  char- 
acter being  brought  out  by  the  light  of  her  husband's 
official  station,  was  held  up  as  a  sort  of  pattern 
throughout  New-England.  But  we  must,  for  the 
present,  pass  by  state  characters — gallery  portraits — 
for  the  miniature  picture  that  lies  next  our  heart,  and 


HOPE   LESLIE.  177 

which  it  is  full  time  should  be  formally  presented  to 
our  readers,  whose  curiosity,  we  trust,  has  not  been 
sated  by  occasional  glimpses. 

Nothing  could  be  more  unlike  the  authentic, "  thor- 
oughly educated,"  and  thoroughly  disciplined  young 
ladies  of  the  present  day  than  Hope  Leslie — as  un- 
like as  a  mountain  rill  to  a  canal — the  one  leaping 
over  rocks  and  precipices,  sportive,  free,  and  beauti- 
ful, or  stealing  softly  on,  in  unseen,  unpraised  love- 
liness; the  other,  formed  by  art,  restrained  within 
prescribed  and  formal  limits,  and  devoted  to  utility. 
Neither  could  anything  in  outward  show  be  more 
unlike  a  modern  belle  arrayed  in  the  last  Paris  fash- 
ion, than  Hope  Leslie  in  her  dress  of  silk  or  muslin, 
shaped  with  some  deference  to  the  fashion  of  the 
day,  but  more  according  to  the  dictates  of  her  own 
skill  and  classic  taste,  which  she  followed  somewhat 
pertinaciously,  in  spite  of  the  suggestions  of  her  ex- 
perienced aunt. 

Fashion  had  no  shrines  among  the  Pilgrims :  but 
where  she  is  most  abjectly  worshipped,  it  would  be 
treason  against  the  paramount  rights  of  Nature  to 
subject  such  a  figure  as  Hope  Leslie's  to  her  tyranny. 
As  well  might  the  exquisite  classic  statue  be  arrayed 
in  corsets,  manches  en  gigot,  garnitures  en  tulle,  See 
Her  height  was  not  above  the  medium  standard  of 
her  sex ;  she  was  delicately  formed ;  the  high  health 
and  the  uniform  habits  of  a  country  life  had  endowed 
her  with  the  beauty  with  which  Poetry  has  invested 
Hebe ;  while  her  love  for  exploring  hill  and  dale, 
ravine  and  precipice,  had  given  her  that  elastic  step 


178  HOPE    LESLIE. 

and  ductile  grace  which  belong  to  all  agile  animals, 
and  which  made  every  accidental  attitude  such  as 
a  painter  would  have  selected  to  express  the  nymph- 
like  beauty  of  Camilla. 

It  is  in  vain  to  attempt  to  describe  a  face  whose 
material  beauty,  though  that  beauty  may  be  faultless, 
is  but  a  medium  for  the  irradiations  of  the  soul.  For 
the  curious,  we  would,  if  we  could,  set  down  the  col- 
our of  our  heroine's  eyes;  but,  alas!  it  was  undefi- 
nable ;  and  appeared  gray,  blue,  hazel,  or  black,  as 
the  outward  light  touched  them,  or  as  they  kindled 
by  the  light  of  her  feelings. 

Her  rich  brown  hair  turned  in  light  waves  from 
her  sunny  brow,  as  if  it  would  not  hide  the  beauty 
it  sheltered.  Her  mouth,  at  this  early  period  of  life, 
had  nothing  of  the  seriousness  and  contemplation 
that  events  might  afterward  have  traced  there.  It 
rather  seemed  the  station  of  all-sportive,  joyous,  and 
kindly  feeling;  and,  at  the  slightest  motion  of  her 
thoughts,  curled  into  smiles,  as  if  all  the  breathings 
of  her  young  heart  were  happiness  and  innocence. 

It  may  appear  improbable  that  a  girl  of  seventeen, 
educated  among  the  strictest  sect  of  the  Puritans, 
should  have  had  the  open,  fearless,  and  gay  charac- 
ter of  Hope  Leslie ;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that 
she  lived  in  an  atmosphere  of  favour  and  indulgence, 
which  permits  the  natural  qualities  to  shoot  forth  in 
unrepressed  luxuriance :  an  atmosphere  of  love,  that, 
like  a  tropical  climate,  brings  forth  the  richest  flow- 
ers and  most  flavorous  fruits.  She  was  transferred 
from  the  care  of  the  gentlest  and  tenderest  of  moth- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  179 

ers  to  Mr.  Fletcher,  who,  though  stern  in  his  princi- 
ples, was  indulgent  in  his  practice ;  whose  denying 
virtues  were  all  self-denying  j  and  who  infused  into 
the  parental  affection  he  felt  for  the  daughter,  some- 
thing of  the  romantic  tenderness  of  the  lover  of  her 
mother.  Her  aunt  Grafton  doted  on  her ;  she  was 
the  depository  of  her  vanity  as  well  as  of  her  affec- 
tion. To  her  simple  tutor  she  seemed  to  imbody 
all  that  philosophers  and  poets  had  set  down  in  their 
books  of  virtue  and  beauty ;  and  those  of  the  old 
and  rigid,  who  w^ere  above  or  below  the  influence  of 
less  substantial  charms,  regarded  the  young  heiress 
with  deference.  In  short,  she  was  the  petted  lamb 
of  the  fold. 

It  has  been  seen  that  Hope  Leslie  was  superior 
to  some  of  the  prejudices  of  the  age.  This  may  be 
explained  without  attributing  too  much  to  her  nat- 
ural sagacity.  Those  persons  she  most  loved,  and 
with  whom  she  had  lived  from  her  infancy,  were  of 
variant  rehgious  sentiments.  Her  father  had  be- 
longed to  the  Established  Church,  and,  though  he 
had  much  of  the  gay  spirit  that  characterized  the 
cavaliers  of  the  day,  he  was  serious  and  exact  in  his 
observance  of  the  rites  of  the  Church.  She  had  oft- 
en been  her  mother's  companion  at  the  proscribed 
"  meeting,"  and  witnessed  the  fervour  with  which 
she  joined  in  the  worship  of  a  persecuted  and  suf- 
fering people.  Early  impressions  sometimes  form 
moulds  for  subsequent  opinions ;  and  when,  at  a  more 
reflecting  age,  Hope  heard  her  aunt  Grafton  rail  with 
natural  good  sense,  and  with  the  freedom,  if  not  the 


180  HOPE    LESLIE!. 

point,  of  mother-wit,  at  some  of  the  peculiarities  of 
the  Puritans,  she  was  led  to  doubt  their  infallibility ; 
and,  like  the  bird  that  spreads  his  wings,  and  soars 
above  the  limits  by  which  each  man  fences  in  his 
own  narrow  domain,  she  enjoyed  the  capacities  of 
her  nature,  and  permitted  her  mind  to  expand  be- 
yond the  contracted  boundaries  of  sectarian  faith. 
Her  religion  was  pure  and  disinterested ;  no  one, 
therefore,  should  doubt  its  intrinsic  value,  though  it 
had  not  been  coined  into  a  particular  form,  or  re- 
ceived the  current  impress. 

Though  the  history  of  our  heroine,  like  a  treasured 
flower,  has  only  left  its  sweetness  on  the  manuscript 
page,  from  which  we  have  amplified  it,  yet  we  have 
been  compelled  to  infer,  from  some  transactions 
which  we  shall  faithfully  record,  that  she  had  faults ; 
but  w^e  leave  our  readers  to  discover  them.  Who 
has  the  resolution  to  point  out  a  favourite's  defects  ? 

As  our  fair  readers  are  not  apt  to  be  observant  of 
dates,  it  may  be  useful  to  remind  them  that  Miss  Les- 
lie's letter  was  written  in  October.  In  the  following 
May,  two  ships  from  the  mother  country  anchored  at 
the  same  time  in  Boston  Bay.  Some  passengei^s  from 
each  ship  availed  themselves  of  the  facility  of  the  pi- 
lot-boat to  go  up  to  the  town.  Among  others  were 
two  gentlemen,  who  met  now  for  the  first  time  :  the 
one  a  youth,  in  manhood's  earhest  prime,  with  a  frank, 
intelligent,  and  benevolent  countenance,  over  which, 
as  he  strained  his  eyes  to  the  shore,  joy  and  anxiety 
flitted  with  rapid  vicissitude ;  the  other  had  advan* 
ced  farther  into  life :  he  might  not  be  more  than  five- 


Hope  Leslie.  181 

and-thirty,  possibly  not  so  much ;  but  his  face  was 
deeply  marked  by  the  ravages  of  the  passions,  or, 
perhaps,  the  stirring  scenes  of  life.  His  eyes  were 
black  and  piercing,  set  near  together,  and  overhung 
by  thick  black  brows,  whose  incessant  motion  indi- 
cated a  restless  mind.  The  concentration  of  thought, 
or  the  designing  purpose  expressed  by  the  upper  part 
of  his  face,  was  contradicted  by  his  loose,  open,  flex- 
ible lips.  His  complexion  had  the  same  puzzling 
contrariety ;  it  was  dark  and  saturnine,  but  enliven- 
ed with  the  ruddy  hue  of  a  bon  vivant.  His  nose 
neither  turned  up  nor  down,  was  neither  Grecian  nor 
Roman.  In  short,  the  countenance  of  the  stranger 
was  a  worthless  dial-plate — a  practical  refutation  of 
the  science  of  Physiognomy  ',  and,  as  the  infallible 
art  of  Phrenology  was  unknown  to  our  fathers,  they 
were  compelled  to  ascertain  the  character  (as  their 
unlearned  descendants  still  are)  by  the  slow  devel- 
opment of  the  conduct.  The  person  of  the  stranger 
had  a  certain  erect  and  gallant  bearing  that  marks  a 
man  of  the  world,  but  his  dress  w^as  strictly  Puritan- 
ical ;  and  his  hair,  so  far  from  being  permitted  the 
"  freedom  of  growing  long,"  then  deemed  "  a  lux- 
urious feminine  prolixity,"  or  being  covered  with 
a  wig  (one  of  the  abominations  that,  according  to 
Eliot,  had  brought  on  the  country  the  infliction  of 
the  Pequod  war),  was  cropped  with  exemplary  pre- 
cision. But,  though  the  stranger's  apparel  was  elab- 
orately Puritanical,  still  there  was  a  certain  elegance 
about  it  which  indicated  that  his  taste  had  reluctant- 
ly yielded  to  his  principles.  His  garments  were  of 
Vol.  L—Q 


182  HOPE   LESllE. 

the  finest  materials,  and  exactly  fitted  to  a  form  of 
striking  manly  symmetry.  His  hair,  it  is  true,  was 
scrupulously  clipped,  but,  being  thick  and  jet  black, 
it  becomingly  defined  a  forehead  of  uncommon  white- 
ness and  beauty.  In  one  particular  he  had  departed 
from  the  letter  of  the  law,  and,  instead  of  exposing 
his  throat  by  the  plain,  open  linen  collar  usually 
worn,  he  sheltered  its  ugly  protuberance  with  a  fine 
cambric  ruff,  arranged  in  box  plaits.  In  short, 
though,  with  the  last  exception,  a  nice  critic  could 
not  detect  the  most  venial  error  in  his  apparel,  yet 
among  the  Puritans  he  looked  much  like  a  "  dandy 
Quaker"  of  the  present  day  amid  his  sober-suited 
brethren. 

While  the  boat,  impelled  by  a  favouring  tide  and 
fair  breeze,  glided  rapidly  towards  the  metropolis  of 
the  now  thriving  colony,  the  gentlemen  fell  into  con- 
versation with  the  pilot.  The  elder  stranger  inquired 
if  Governor  Winthrop  had  been  re-elected. 

"  Yes,  God  bless  him,"  replied  the  sailor,  "  the 
worthy  gentleman  has  taken  the  helm  once  more." 

"  Has  he,"  asked  the  stranger,  eagerly,  *'  declared 
for  King  or  Parliament  ?" 

"  Ho  !  I  don't  know  much  about  their  land-tackle," 
replied  the  seaman ;  "  but,  to  my  mind,  the  fastings 
we  have  had  all  along  when  the  king  won  the  day, 
and  the  rejoicings  when  the  Parliament  gained  it, 
was  what  you  might  call  a  declaration.  Since  you 
speak  of  it,  I  do  remember  I  heard  the  boys  up  in 
town  saying  that  our  magistrates,  at  election,  did 
scruple  about  the  oath,  and  concluded  to  leave  out 


HOPE    LESLIE.  183 

that  part  which  promises  to  bear  true  faith  and  alle- 
giance to  our  sovereign  lord,  King  Charles." 

"  So,  we  have  thrown  his  majesty  overboard,  and 
are  to  sail  under  Parliament  colours  ?"  said  the  young 
gentleman.  "  Well,"  he  continued,  "  this  might 
have  been  predicted  some  five  or  six  years  since,  for, 
I  remember,  there  were  then  disputes  whether  the 
king's  ensign  should  be  spread  there,"  and  he  point- 
ed to  the  fortifications  on  Castle  Island,  past  which 
the  boat  was  at  that  moment  gliding.  "  They  scruple 
now  about  the  oath.  Then  their  consciences  rebell- 
ed against  the  red  cross  in  the  ensign,  which,  I  re- 
member, was  called  '  the  Pope's  gift,'  *  a  relic  of  pa- 
pacy,' '  an  idolatrous  sign,'  &c." 

"  Scruples  of  conscience  are  ever  honourable," 
said  the  elder  stranger ;  "  and,  doubtless,  your  gov- 
ernor has  good  reason  for  not  complying  with  the 
Scripture  rule  :  '  render  unto  Csesar  the  things  that 
are  Caesar's.' " 

"There  is  no  doubt  of  it,"  replied  the  seaman. 
"  The  governor — God  bless  him  ! — knows  the  rules 
of  the  Good  Book  as  well  as  I  know  the  ropes  of  a 
ship;  and  there  is  no  better  pilot  than  he  for  all 
weathers,  as  he  shows  by  not  joining  in  the  hue  and 
cry  against  the  good  creature  tobacco.  Fair  winds 
through  life,  and  a  pleasant  harbour  at  last,  do  I  wish 
him  for  this  piece  of  Christian  love !"  at  the  same 
time  he  illustrated  his  benediction  by  putting  a  por- 
tion of  the  favourite  luxury  in  his  mouth. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  the  young  gentleman,  "  that 
our  magistrates  have  volunteered  a  public  expression 


184  HOPE    LESLIE. 

of  their  feelings ;  their  sympathies,  of  course,  are 
with  the  Parhament  party  ;  they  virtually  broke  the 
yoke  of  royal  authority  when  they  left  their  native 
land,  and  showed  what  value  they  set  on  liberty  by 
sacrificing  for  it  every  temporal  good.  Now  they 
have  a  right  to  enjoy  their  liberty  in  peace." 

"  Peace  V'  said  the  elder  gentleman,  emphatically ; 
"  thus  it  ever  is  with  the  natural  man,  crying  peace, 
peace,  where  there  is  no  peace.  Think  you,  young 
man,  that  if  the  king  were  to  recover  his  power,  he 
would  not  resume  all  the  privileges  he  has  formerly 
granted  to  these  people,  who,  thanks  to  Him  whose 
ark  abideth  with  them !  show  themselves  so  ready 
to  cast  off  their  allegiance  ?" 

"  The  king,  no  doubt,"  replied  the  young  gentle- 
man, "  would  like  to  resume  both  power  and  posses- 
sion ;  but  still  I  think  we  might  retain  our  own,  on 
the  principle  that  he  had  no  right  to  give,  and,  in 
truth,  could  not  give  what  was  not  his,  and  what  we 
have  acquired  either  by  purchase  of  the  natives  or 
by  lawful  conquest,  W'hich  gives  us  the  right  to  the 
vacuum  domicilium.^^ 

"  I  am  happy  to  see,  sir,"  said  the  elder  gentle- 
man, slightly  bowing  and  smiling,  "  that  your  prin- 
ciples, at  least,  are  on  the  side  of  the  Puritans." 

"  My  feelings  and  principles  both,  sir ;  but  that 
does  not  render  me  insensible  to  the  happiness  of  the 
adverse  party,  or  the  wisdom  of  all  parties,  which  is 
peace ;  the  peace  which  the  generous  Falkland  so 
earnestly  invokes,  every  patriot  may  ardently  desire. 
Peace,  if  I  may  borrow^  a  figure  from  our  friend  the 


HOPE    LESLIE.  185 

pilot  here,  is  a  fair  wind  and  a  flood-tide,  and  war 
a  storm  that  must  wreck  some,  and  may  wreck  both 
friend  and  foe." 

The  young  gentleman  seemed  tired  of  the  conver- 
sation, and  turned  away,  fixing  his  eager  gaze  on  the 
shore,  towards  which  his  heart  bounded.  His  com- 
panion, however,  was  not  disposed  to  indulge  him  in 
silence.  "  This  town,  sir,"  he  said,  "  appears  to  be 
familiar  to  you.  I,  alas  !  am  a  stranger  and  a  wan- 
derer." This  w^as  spoken  in  a  tone  of  unaffected  se- 
riousness. 

"  Of  such  this  country  is  the  natural  home,"  repli- 
ed the  young  man,  regarding  his  companion  for  the 
first  time  with  some  interest,  for  he  had  been  repelled 
by  what  seemed  to  him  to  savour  of  cant,  of  which 
he  had  heard  too  much  in  the  mother  country.  "  I 
should  be  happy,  sir,"  he  said,  courteously,  "  to  ren- 
der my  acquaintance  with  the  town  of  any  service 
to  you." 

The  stranger  bowed  in  acknowledgment  of  the  ci- 
vility. "  I  would  gladly,"  he  said,  "  find  entertain- 
ment with  some  godly  family  here.  Is  Mr.  Wilson 
still  teacher  of  the  congregation  ?" 

"  No,  sir :  if  he  were,  you  might  securely  count  on 
his  hospitality,  as  it  was  so  notorious  that  ^  come  in, 
you  are  heartily  w'elcome,'  w^as  said  to  be  the  ana- 
gram of  his  name.  But,  if  he  is  gone,  the  doors 
in  Boston  are  always  open  to  the  stranger.  Mr. 
Cotton,  I  believe,  is  the  present  minister — is  he  not, 
pilot  ?" 

"  Yes,  an  please  you,  sir ;  but  I'm  thinking,"  he 
Q2 


186  HOPE    LESLIE. 

added,  with  a  leer,  "  that  that  butterfly  will  be  an 
odd  fish  to  harbour  with  any  of  our  right  godly  ones." 
The  young  gentleman  followed  the  direction  of  the 
pilot's  eye,  and  for  the  first  time  observed  a  lad,  who 
sat  on  one  side  of  the  boat,  leaning  over,  and  amu- 
sing himself  with  lashing  the  v/aves  with  a  fanciful 
walking-stick.  He  overheard  the  pilot's  remark,  and 
raised  his  head,  as  it  appeared,  involuntarily,  for  he 
immediately  averted  it  again,  but  not  till  he  had  ex- 
posed a  face  of  uncommon  beauty.  He  looked  about 
fifteen.  He  had  the  full,  melting  dark  eye  and  rich 
complexion  of  southern  cUmes;  masses  of  jetty  curls 
parted  on  his  forehead,  shaded  his  temples  and  neck, 
and  "  smooth  as  Hebe's  was  his  unrazored  lip."  It 
was  obvious  that  it  was  his  dress  which  had  called 
forth  the  sailor's  sarcasm.  The  breast  and  sleeves 
of  his  jerkin  were  embroidered  ;  a  deep  ponited  rich 
lace  ruff  embellished  his  neck,  if  a  neck  round  and 
smooth  as  alabaster  could  be  embelhshed ;  and  his 
head  was  covered  with  a  little  fantastic  Spanish  hat, 
decorated  with  feathers. 

"  Does  that  youth  appertain  to  you,  sir  ?"  asked 
the  young  gentleman  of  the  elder  stranger. 

"  Yes,  he  is  a  sort  of  dependant — a  page  of  mine," 
he  replied,  with  an  embarrassed  manner;  but  in  a 
moment  recovering  his  self-possession,  he  added, "  I 
infer,  from  the  gratuitous  remarks  of  our  very  frank 
pilot,  and  from  the  survey  you  have  taken  of  the  lad, 
that  you  think  his  apparel  extraordinary." 

"  It  might  possibly,"  replied  the  young  man,  with 
a  smile,  "  offend  against  certain  sumptuary  laws  of 
our  colony,  and  thus  prove  inconvenient  to  you." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  187 

"Roslin,  do  you  hear?"  said  the  master  to  the 
page,  who  nodded  his  head  without  raising  it  j  "  thy 
finery,  boy,  as  I  have  told  thee,  must  be  retrenched ;" 
then  turning  to  his  companion,  and  lowering  his 
voice  to  a  confidential  tone,  he  added,  "  the  lad  hath 
lived  on  the  Continent,  and  hath  there  imbibed  these 
vanities,  of  which  I  hope  in  good  time  to  reform 
him;  perhaps  his  youth  hath  overwrought  v;ith  my 
indulgence  in  suffering  them  thus  long." 

The  young  gentleman  courteously  prevented  any 
farther,  and,  as  he  thought,  unnecessary  exculpation, 
by  saying  "  that  the  offence  was  certainly  a  very  tri- 
fling one,  and  if  observed  at  all,  would  be,  by  the 
most  scrupulous,  considered  as  venial  in  so  young  a 
lad."  He  now  again  turned  his  ardent  gaze  to  the 
shore.  "  Ah  !  there  is  the  spire  of  the  new  meeting- 
house," he  said  ;  "  and  when  I  went  away,  the  good 
people  assembled  under  a  thatched  roof,  and  within 
mud  walls." 

"  And  I  can  remember,"  said  the  pilot,  "  for  I  was 
among  the  first  comers  to  the  wilderness,  when  for 
weeks  the  congregation  met  under  an  oak  tree  :  and 
there  was  heart-worship  there,  gentlemen,  if  there 
ever  was  on  the  ball." 

A  church  standing  where  Joy^s  huildings  are  now 
located  was  the  only  one  then  in  Boston.  The 
greater  part  of  the  houses  were  built  in  its  vicinity, 
just  about  the  heart  of  the  peninsula,  on  whose  stri- 
king and  singular  form  its  first  possessors  aver  they 
saw  written  prophecies  of  its  future  greatness.  Some 
of  its  most  prominent  features  have  been  softened  by 


188  HOPE    LESLIE. 

time,  and  others  changed  by  the  busy  art  of  man. 
Wharves,  whole  streets,  and  the  noble  granite  mar- 
ket-house (a  prouder  memorial  to  its  founder  than  a 
triumphal  arch)  now  stand  where  the  deep  "  cove" 
stretched  its  peaceful  harbour,  between  the  two  hills 
that  stood  like  towers  of  defence  at  its  extremities. 
That  at  the  north  rose  to  the  height  of  fifty  feet  above 
the  sea,  and  on  its  level  summit  stood  a  windmill ; 
towards  the  sea  it  presented  an  abrupt  declivity,  and 
was  fortified  at  its  base  by  a  strong  battery.  The 
eastern  hill  was  higher  than  its  sister  by  some  thirty 
feet ;  it  descended  kindly  towards  the  town,  and  was 
on  that  side  planted  with  corn.  Towards  the  sea  its 
steep  and  ragged  cliffs  announced  that  Nature  had 
formed  it  for  defence  ;  and,  accordingly,  our  fathers 
soon  fortified  it  with  "store  of  great  artillery,"  and 
changed  the  first  pastoral  name  of  Corn-hill,  which 
they  had  given  it,  to  the  more  appropriate  designation 
of  Fort-hill.  A  third  hill  flanked  the  town,  rising 
to  the  height  of  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  feet. 
"  All  three,"  says  Johnson,  "  like  overtopping  tow- 
ers, keepe  a  constant  watch  to  foresee  the  approach 
of  forrein  dangers,  being  furnished  with  a  beacon, 
and  loud  babbling  guns,  to  give  notice,  by  their  re- 
doubled eccho,  to  all  their  sister  townes." 

Shawmut,  a  word  expressing  living  fountains,  was 
the  Indian  name  of  Boston.  Tri-mountain,  its  first 
English  name,  and  descriptive  of  Beacon  Hill,  which, 
as  we  are  told,  rose  in  three  majestic  and  lofty  emi- 
nences, the  most  eastern  of  these  summits  having  on 
its  brow  three  little  hillocks.     Its  present,  and,  as 


HOPE    LESLIE,  189 

we  fondly  believe,  immortal  name,  was  given  with 
characteristic  reverence,  in  honour  of  one  of  its  first 
pastors,  Mr.  Cotton,  who  came  from  Boston,  in  Eng- 
land. 

But  we  return  from  this  digression  to  our  pilot- 
boat,  which  now  had  nearly  reached  its  landing- 
place.  A  throng  had  gathered  on  the  "  town-dock" 
in  expectation  of  friends,  or  news  from  friends.  In 
vain  did  the  young  stranger's  eye  explore  the  crowd 
for  some  familiar  face ;  he  was  obliged  to  check  the 
greetings  that  rose  to  his  lips,  and  repress  the 
throbbings  of  his  heart.  "  Time,"  he  said,  "  has 
wrought  strano^e  chancres.  I  fancied  that  even  the 
stones  in  Boston  would  know  me;  but  now  I  see 
not  one  welcoming  look,  unless  it  be  in  those  barba- 
ry  and  rose  bushes,  that  appear  just  as  they  did  the 
last  time  I  scrambled  over  Windmill  Hill."  They 
now  landed  at  the  foot  of  this  hill,  and  the  young 
gentleman  told  his  companion  that  he  should  j^o  to 
his  old  home  at  Governor  Winthrop's,  where  he  was 
sure  of  finding  friends  to  welcome  him.  "  And  if 
you  will  accompany  me  thither,"  he  said,  "  I  am  cer- 
tain our  kind  governor  will  render  you  all  the  cour- 
tesies which,  as  a  stranger,  you  may  require." 

This  opportune  offer  was  of  course  accepted ; 
and  the  gentlemen  proceeded  like  old  acquaintances, 
arm  in  arm  together,  after  a  short  consultation  be- 
tween the  master  and  page,  the  amount  of  which 
seemed  to  be  that  the  boy  should  attend  him,  and 
await  without  Governor  Winthrop's  door  farther 
orders. 


190  HOPE    LESLIE. 

They  had  not  gone  far,  when,  as  they  turned  a 
corner,  two  young  ladies  issued  from  the  door  of  a 
house  a  little  in  advance,  and  walked  on  without 
observing  them.  The  young  gentleman  quickened 
his  steps.  ^'  It  must  be  she  1"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  most 
animated  tone.  ^'  There  is  but  one  person  in  the 
world  that  has  such  tresses !"  and  his  eye  rested  on 
the  bright  golden  ringlets  that  peeped  from  beneath 
a  chip  gipsy  hat  worn  by  one  of  the  ladies. 

"  That  is  not  a  rational  conclusion  of  yours,"  said 
his  companion.  "  Women  have  cunning  devices  by 
which  to  change  the  order  of  Nature  in  the  colouring 
of  the  hair.  I  have  seen  many  a  court  dame  arrayed 
in  the  purchased  locks  of  her  serving-maid ;  besides, 
you  know  it  is  the  vain  fashion  of  the  day  to  make 
much  use  of  coloured  powders,  fluids,  and  unguents." 

"  That  may  all  be ;  but  do  you  not  see  this 
nymph's  locks  are,  as  Rosalind  says,  of  the  colour 
God  chooses  ?" 

"  It  were  better,  my  friend,  if  you  explained  your 
meaning  without  a  profane  quotation  from  a  play, 
a  practice  to  which  our  godless  cavaliers  are  much 
addicted ;  but  pardon  my  reproof :  age  has  privi- 
leges." 

"I  do  not  know,"  replied  the  young  gentleman, 
"  what  degree  of  seniority  may  confer  this  privilege ; 
if  some  half  dozen  years,  I  submit  to  your  right ;  and 
the  more  readily,  as  I  am  just  now  too  happy  to 
quarrel  about  anything ;  but  excuse  me,  I  must  quick- 
en my  pace  to  overtake  this  girl,  who  trips  it  along 
as  if  she  had  Mercury's  wings  on  those  pretty  feet." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  19l 

"  Ah,  that's  a  foot  to  leave  its  print  in  the  mem- 
ory," said  the  elder  gentleman,  in  an  animated  and 
natural  tone,  that,  eagerly  as  his  companion  was 
pressing  on,  did  not  escape  his  observation. 

They  had  now  approached  the  parties  they  were 
pursuing  near  enough  to  hear  their  voices  and  catch 
a  few  words  of  their  conversation.  "  You  say  it's 
edifying,  and  all  that,"  said  the  shortest  of  the  two 
young  ladies,  in  reply  to  what  seemed,  from  the  tone 
in  which  it  was  concluded,  to  have  been  an  expostu- 
lation ;  "  and  I  dare  say,  dear  Esther,  you  are  quite 
right,  for  you  are  as  wise  as  Solomon,  and  always  in 
the  right ;  but  for  my  part,  I  confess,  I  had  infinitely 
rather  be  at  home  drying  marigolds,  and  matching 
embroidery  silks  for  aunt  Grafton." 

"  Hope  Leslie  !  by  Heaven  !"  exclaimed  the  young 
man,  springing  forward.  The  young  lady  turned  at 
the  sound  of  her  name,  uttered  a  scream  of  joy,  and, 
under  the  impulse  of  strong  affection  and  sudden  de- 
light, threw  her  arms  around  the  stranger's  neck,  and 
was  folded  in  the  embrace  of  Everell  Fletcher. 

The  next  instant,  the  consciousness  that  the  street 
was  an  awkward  place  for  such  a  demonstration  of 
happiness,  or,  perhaps,  the  thought  that  the  elegant 
young  man  before  her  was  no  longer  the  playfellow 
of  her  childhood,  suffused  her  neck  and  face  with  the 
deepest  crimson ;  and  a  sort  of  exculpatory  excla- 
m.ation  of  "  I  w^as  so  surprised  !"  burst  from  her  lips, 
and  extorted  a  smile  even  from  Everell's  new  ac- 
quaintance, whose  gravity  had  all  the  fixedness  of 
premeditation. 


19^  HOPE    LESLIi:. 

For  a  moment  Everell's  eyes  were  riveted  to  Hope 
Leslie's  face,  which  he  seemed  to  compare  with  the 
image  in  his  memory.  "  Yes,"  he  said,  as  if  think- 
ing aloud,  "  the  same  face  that  I  saw,  for  the  first 
time,  peeping  through  my  curtains,  the  day  Digby 
brought  me  home  to  Bethel  :  how  is  Digby  ?  my 
dear  father  ?  Mrs.  Grafton  ?  the  Winthrops  1  ev- 
erybody ?" 

"  All,  all  well ;  but  I  must  defer  particulars  till  I 
have  introduced,  you  to  my  friend,  Miss  Downing." 

"Miss  Downing!  is  it  possible!"  exclaimed  Ev- 
erell ;  and  a  recognition  followed  which  showed  that, 
though  he  had  not  before  observed  the  lady,  who 
had  turned  aside,  and  was  sheltered  under  the  thick 
folds  of  a  veil,  the  parties  w^ere  not  unknown  to  each 
other.  Miss  Leslie  now  drew  her  friend's  arm  with- 
in hers,  and,  as  she  did  so,  she  perceived  she  trem- 
bled excessively ;  but,  too  considerate  to  remark  an 
agitation  which  it  was  obvious  the  lady  did  not  mean 
to  betray,  she  did  not  appear  to  notice  it,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  give  Everell  such  particulars  of  his  friends 
as  he  must  be  most  impatient  to  hear.  She  told  him 
that  his  father  was  in  Boston,  and  that,  in  compli- 
ance with  his  son's  wishes,  he  had  determined  to  fix 
his  residence  there.  Everell  was  rejoiced  at  this  de- 
cision, for  gloomy  recollections  were,  in  his  mind,  al- 
ways associated  with  Bethel,  and  he  was  never  hap- 
py when  he  thought  of  the  dangers  to  which  Miss 
Leslie  was  exposed  there. 

"  My  last  letters  from  America,"  he  said,  "  inform- 
ed me  that  you  had,  as  yet,  no  tidings  from  your 
sister  or  my  friend  Magawisca»" 


irOPE    LESLIE.  193 

^•'Nor  have  we  now;  still  I  cling  to  my  belief 
that  my  poor  sister  will  some  day  be  restored  to  me : 
Nelema's  promise  is  prophecy  to  me." 

They  had  by  this  time  reached  Governor  Win- 
throp's.  Miss  Downing  withdrew  her  arm  from  her 
fi  iend,  with  the  intention  of  retiring  to  her  own  apart- 
ment ;  but  her  steps  faltered,  and  she  sunk  down  in 
the  first  chair  she  could  reach,  hoping  to  escape  all 
observation  in  the  bustle  of  joy  occasioned  by  the 
unexpected  arrival  of  Everell ;  and  she  did  so,  ex- 
cepting that  her  aunt  called  the  colour  to  her  cheek 
by  saying, "  My  dear  Esther,  you  have  sadly  fatigued 
yourself;  you  are  as  pale  as  death !"  and  Hope  Les- 
lie, noticing  that  Everell  cast  stolen  glances  of  anx- 
ious inquiry  at  her  friend,  made,  with  the  usual  ac- 
tivity of  a  romantic  imagination,  a  thousand  conjec- 
tures as  to  the  nature  of  their  acquaintance.  But 
there  was  nothing  said  or  done  to  assist  her  specula- 
tions ;  and  while  the  governor  was  looking  over  a 
letter  of  introduction,  presented  to  him  by  Everell's 
chance  acquaintance,  who  had  announced  himself 
by  the  name  of  Sir  Philip  Gardiner,  the  young  ladies 
withdrew  to  their  own  apartment. 

Vol.  L— R 


1^4  HO?E    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  A  pensive  nun,  devout  and  pure, 
Sober,  steadfast,  and  demure." 

Il  Penseroso. 

When  the  two  ladies  were  alone,  there  were  a 
few  moments  of  embarrassed  and  uninterrupted  si- 
lence, a  rare  occurrence  between  two  confidential 
young  friends.  Hope  Leslie  w^as  the  first  to  speak. 
"  Come,  my  dear  Esther,"  she  said,  "  it  is  in  vain 
for  you  to  think  of  hiding  your  heart  from  me;  if 
you  do  not  fairly  conduct  me  through  its  mazes,  I 
shall  make  use  of  the  clew  you  have  dropped,  and 
find  my  own  way  through  the  labyrinth/' 

"  Hope  Leshe  !  what  clew  do  you  mean  ?  You 
should  not  trifle  thus." 

"  Well,  then,  I  wall  be  as  serious  as  you  please, 
and  most  solemnly  demand  why  thou  hast  never 
hinted  to  the  friend  of  thy  bosom  that  thou  hadst 
seen  in  thine  own  country  this  youth,  Everell  Fletch- 
er, of  w^hom  I  have,  at  divers  times  and  sundry  pla- 
ces, most  freely  spoken  to  thee  ?" 

"  I  never  told  you  I  had  not  seen  him." 

"  Oh  no  !  but  methinks,  for  a  godly,  gracious 
maiden  as  thou  art,  Esther — approved  by  our  elders, 
the  pattern  of  our  deacons'  wives — your  actions,  as 
well  as  your  language,  should  be  the  Gospel  *  yea, 
yea,  and  nay,  nay 3'  this  'paltering  with  a  double 


HOPE   LESLIE.  195 

sense,'  as  the  poet  has  it,  would  better  become  a  pro- 
fane damsel  like  myself." 

"  If  I  have  lacked  sincerity,  I  merit  your  reproach ; 
but  I  meant  to  have  told  you.  Mr.  Fletcher's  arri- 
val now  was  unexpected — " 

"  And  you  were  indisposed  ?  your  nerves  de- 
ranged ?  your  circulations  disordered  ?  I  thought  so 
when  I  saw  that  burning  blush,  that  looked,  even 
through  the  folds  of  your  veil,  as  if  it  would  set  it  on 
fire ;  but,  now  your  surprise  is  over,  why  look  so  like 
the  tragic  muse  ?  Raise  up  your  eyes  and  look  at 
me,  dear  Esther,  and  do  not  let  those  long  eyelashes 
droop  over  your  pale  cheek  like  a  weeping  willow 
over  monumental  marble." 

"  Oh,  Hope  Leslie !  if  it  were  not  sinful,  I  could 
wish  that  monumental  marble  might  press  the  clods 
on  my  cold  bosom." 

Hope  was  startled  at  the  unaffected  solemnity  and 
deep  distress  of  her  friend :  every  pulsation  of  her 
heart  was  audible,  and  her  lips,  which  before  were 
as  pale  as  death,  became  absolutely  blue.  She  threw 
her  arms  around  her,  and  kissed  her  tenderly, 
"  Dear,  dear  Esther,"  she  said,  "  forgive  me  for  of" 
fending  thee.  I  never  will  ask  thee  anything  again 
— never,  so  long  as  I  live.  You  may  look  glad  or 
sorry,  blush  or  faint — do  anything  you  please,  and 
I  never  will  ask  you  for  a  reason." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  very  generous,  Hope ;  but 
have  you  not  already  guessed  the  secret  I  have  striv- 
en to  hide  ?     You  hesitate  :  answer  me  truly." 

"Why,  then,  if  I  must  answer  truly,  perhaps  I 


196  HOPE    LESLIE. 

have,"  replied  Hope,  looking,  in  spite  of  herself,  as 
archly  as  the  mischievous  little  god,  when  he  sees  one 
of  his  own  arrows  trembling  in  the  heart ;  " '  set  a 
thief  to  catch  a  thief,'  dear  Esther,  is  an  old  maxim ; 
and,  though  I  have  never  felt  this  nervous  malady, 
yet,  you  know,  lam  skilled  in  the  books  that  describe 
the  symptoms,  thanks  to  aunt  Grafton's  plentiful  stock 
of  romances  and  plays." 

"  Oh,  most  unprofitable  skill  I  But  I  have  no  right 
to  reproach  thee,  since  what  hath  been  but  the  sport 
of  thy  imagination  is  my  experience — degrading  ex- 
perience. Whatever  it  may  cost  me,  you  shall  know 
all,  Hope  Leslie.  You  have  justly  reproached  me 
with  insincerity  :  I  will  at  least  hghten  my  con- 
science of  the  burden  of  that  sin." 

Hope's  curiosity  was  on  tiptoe ;  and,  notwithstand- 
ing her  generous  resolution  not  voluntarily  to  pene- 
trate her  friend's  mystery,  she  was  delighted  with  the 
dawn  of  a  disclosure  which,  she  believed,  would 
amount  to  a  simple  confession  of  a  tender  sentiment. 
She  sincerely  pitied  Miss  Downing's  sufferings ;  but 
it  is,  perhaps,  impossible  for  a  third  person  to  sym- 
pathize fully  with  feelings  of  this  nature.  ^'  Now, 
Esther,"  she  said,  sportively,  "  fancy  me  to  be  the 
priest,  and  yourself  the  penitent.  Confess  freely, 
daughter ;  our  holy  Church,  through  me,  her  most 
unworthy  servant,  doth  offer  thee  full  absolution." 

"  Stop,  stop,  Hope  Leslie !  do  not  trifle  with  holy 
words  and  most  unholy  rites  ;  but  listen  seriously,  and 
compassionate  a  weakness  that  can  never  be  forgot- 
ten." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  197 

Miss  Downing  then  proceeded  to  relate  some  of 
the  following  particulars ;  but,  as  her  narrative  was 
confused  by  her  emotions,  and  as  it  is  necessary  our 
readers  should,  for  the  sake  of  its  illustration,  be  pos- 
sessed of  some  circumstances  which  ^Yere  omitted 
by  her,  we  here  give  it,  more  distinctly,  in  our  own  ; 
language. 

Esther  was  the  daughter  of  Emanuel  Downing, 
the  husband  of  Governor  Winthrop's  sister,  so  often 
mentioned  by  that  gentleman  in  his  journal  as  the 
faithful  and  useful  friend  of  the  Pilgrims,  w^hom  he 
finally  joined  in  New-England. 

Esther  Downing  was  of  a  reserved,  tender,  and 
timid  cast  of  character,  and,  being  bred  in  the  strict- 
est school  of  the  Puritans,  their  doctrines  and  prin- 
ciples easily  commingled  with  the  natural  qualities 
of  her  mind.  She  could  not  have  disputed  the  nice 
points  of  faith,  sanctification,  and  justification,  with 
certain  celebrated  contemporary  female  theologians, 
but  no  one  excelled  her  in  the  practical  part  of  her 
religion.  In  the  language  of  the  times,  justification 
was  witnessed  both  by  word  and  w^ork. 

That  young  ladies  were  then  indulged  in  a  moder- 
ate degree  of  personal  embellishment,  we  learn  from 
one  of  the  severest  Pilgrim  satirists,  who  avers  that 
he  w^as  "  no  cynic  to  the  due  hravery  of  the  true 
gentry,"  and  allows  that  "  a  good  text  always  de- 
serves a  fair  margent."  Miss  Downing  was  certain- 
ly a  pure  and  beautiful ''  text,"  but  her  attire  never 
varied  from  the  severest  Gospel  simplicity.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  she  was  fortified  in  this  self-denying  virtue 
R  2 


198  HOPE    LESLIE. 

by  that  lively  little  spirit  that  ever  hovers  about  a 
woman's  toilet,  whispering-  in  her  ear  that  all  the 
arts  of  the  tyring-woman  could  not  improve  the  be- 
comingness  of  her  Madonna  style.  She  wore  her 
hair,  which  was  of  a  sober  brown  hue,  parted  on  her 
forehead,  and  confined  behind  in  a  braid  that  was  so 
adjusted,  it  may  be  accidentally,  as  to  perfectly  de- 
fine the  graceful  contour  of  her  head.  Her  com- 
plexion was  rather  pale,  but  so  exquisitely  fair  and 
transparent  that  it  showed  the  faintest  tinge  of  col- 
our, and  set  off  to  the  greatest  advantage  features 
which,  if  not  striking,  had  the  admitted  beauty  of 
perfect  symmetry.  She  was  at  least  half  a  head  tall- 
er than  our  heroine  or  the  Venus  de  Medicis ;  but, 
as  neither  of  these  were  standards  with  the  Pilgrims, 
no  one  who  ventured  to  speak  of  the  personal  graces 
of  Esther  Downing  ever  impeached  their  perfection. 
Spiritual  graces  were  then  in  far  higher  estimation 
than  external  charms;  and  Miss  Downing,  who 
would  have  been  a  reigning  belle  in  our  degenerate 
times,  was  always  characterized  by  a  religious  epi- 
thet ;  she  was  the  "  godly"  or  the  "  gracious  maid- 
en." She  attained  the  age  of  nineteen  without  one 
truant  wish  straying  beyond  the  narrow  bound  of 
domestic  duty  and  rehgious  exercises ;  but  the  course 
of  youth  and  beauty  "  never  doth  run  smooth,"  and 
the  perils  that  commonly  beset  it  now  assailed  the 
tender  Esther. 

Everell  Fletcher  came  to  her  father's  to  pass  two 
months.  He  had  then,  for  some  years,  resided  in  the 
family  of  his  uncle  Stretton,  a  moderate  churchman, 


HOPE   LESLIE.  199 

who,  though  he  had  not  seen  fit  to  eradicate  the  re- 
ligious and  poKtical  principles  that  had  been  planted 
in  the  mind  of  the  boy,  had  so  tempered  them  that, 
to  confess  the  truth,  the  man  fell  far  below  the  stand- 
ard of  Puritanism.  At  first  Esther  was  rather 
shocked  by  the  unsubdued  gayety,  the  unconstrained 
freedom,  and  the  air  of  a  man  of  society  that  distin- 
guished Everell  from  the  few  demure,  solemn  young 
men  of  her  acquaintance ;  but  there  is  an  irresistible 
charm  in  ease,  simplicity,  and  frankness,  when  chas- 
tened by  the  refinements  of  education,  and  there  is 
a  natural  affinity  in  youth,  even  when  there  is  no 
resemblance  in  the  character ;  and  Esther  Downing, 
who  at  first  remained  in  Everell's  presence  but  just 
as  long  as  the  duties  of  hospitality  required,  soon 
found  herself  lingering  in  the  parlour,  and  strolling 
in  the  walks  that  w^ere  his  favourite  resort.  It  seem- 
ed as  if  the  sun  had  risen  on  her  after  a  polar  win- 
ter, and  cheerfulness  and  her  pleasant  train  sprung 
up  in  a  mind  that  had  been  chilled  and  paralyzed  by 
the  absence  of  w^hatever  cherishes  the  gay  temper  of 
youth ;  but  it  was,  after  all,  but  the  stinted  growth 
of  a  polar  summer. 

She  felt  a  change  stealing  over  her ;  new  thoughts 
were  in  her  heart, 

"  And  love  and  happiness  their  theme." 

She  did  not  investigate  the  cause  of  this  change,  but 
suffered  the  current  of  her  feelings  to  flow  uncheck- 
ed, till  she  was  roused  to  reflection  by  her  serving- 
maid,  wdio  said  to  her  mistress  one  evening,  when 
she  came  in  from  a  long  moonlight  walk  with  Ever- 


200  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ell,  "  Our  worthy  minister  has  been  here  to-day,  and 
he  asked  me  what  kept  you  from  the  lecture-room 
so  oft  of  late.  I  minded  him  it  rained  last  night. 
He  said  that  in  months  past  no  tempest  detained 
you  from  the  place  of  worship.  I  made  no  answer 
to  that ;  besides  that,  it  was  not  for  me  to  gainsay  the 
minister.  He  stood  as  if  meditating  a  minute,  and 
then  he  took  up  your  psalm-book,  and  as  he  did  so, 
a  paper  dropped  with  some  verses  written  on  it,  and 
he  said,  with  almost  a  smile,  *  Ah,  Judy,  then  your 
young  lady  tries  her  hand,  sometimes,  at  versifying 
the  words  of  the  royal  psalmist  V  " 

"  Did  he  look  at  the  lines,  Judy  ?"  asked  Esther, 
blushing  deeply  with  the  consciousness  that  they  were 
but  a  profane  sentimental  effusion. 

"  Yes,  my  lady ;  but  he  looked  solemnized,  and 
said  nothing  more  about  them  ;  but,  turning  to  me, 
and  speaking  as  if  he  would  ask  a  question,  he  said, 
*  Judy,  it  was  your  mistress'  wont  to  keep  the  wheel 
of  prayer  in  perpetual  motion.  I  doubt  not  her  pri- 
vate duty  is  still  faithfully  done  V  I  answered  to 
him  that  your  honoured  parents  had  been  absent  the 
last  week,  and  you  had  had  company  to  entertain, 
and  were  not  quite  as  long  at  closet- exercise  as 
usual." 

"  Judy,  you  were  very  ready  wdth  your  excuses 
for  me,"  said  her  mistress,  after  a  moment's  thought- 
fulness. 

"It  must  be  a  dumb  dog  indeed,"  replied  the 
girl,  "  that  cannot  bark  for  such  a  kind  mistress  as 
thou  art." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  201 

How  often  does  an  accidentj  a  casual  word  even, 
serve  as  a  key  to  unlock  feelings  of  which  the  pos- 
sessor has  been  unconscious.  The  conscientious  girl 
was  suddenly  awakened  from  what  appeared  to  her  a 
sinful  dream.  Had  she  perceived,  on  investigation,  a 
reciprocal  sentiment  in  Everell  Fletcher,  she  would 
probably  have  permitted  her  feelings  to  flow  in  their 
natural  channel;  but,  not  mingling  with  his,  they 
were  like  a  stream  that,  being  dammed  up,  flows 
back,  and  spreads  desolation  where  it  should  have 
produced  life  and  beauty. 

The  severest  religionists  of  the  times  did  not  re- 
quire the  extinction  of  the  tenderest  human  affec- 
tions. On  the  contrary,  there  was,  perhaps,  never 
a  period  when  they  were  more  frequently  and  per- 
fectly illustrated.  How  many  delicate  women,  whom 
the  winds  of  heaven  had  never  visited  roughly,  sub- 
scribed with  their  lives  to  that  beautiful  declaration 
of  affection  from  a  tender  and  devoted  wife :  ^'  Whith- 
ersoever your  fatall  destinie,"  she  said  to  her  hus- 
band, "  shall  dryve  you,  eyther  by  the  furious  waves 
of  the  great  ocean,  or  by  the  manifolde  and  horrible 
dangers  of  the  lande,  I  will  surely  beare  you  com- 
pany. There  can  be  no  peryll  chaunce  to  me  so  ter- 
rible, nor  any  kynde  of  deathe  so  cruelle,  that  shall 
not  be  much  easier  for  me  to  abyde  than  to  live  so 
farre  separate  from  you." 

But,  though  human  affections  were  permitted,  they 
were  to  be  in  manifest  subservience  to  religious  devo- 
tion :  their  encroachments  were  watched  with  a  vi- 
gilance resembhng  the  jealousy  with  which  the  Israel- 


202  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ites  defended  from  every  profane  footstep  the  Holy 
Circle  around  the  ark  of  the  living  God.  It  was 
this  jealousy  that  now  alarmed  the  fearful,  supersti- 
tious girl ;  and,  after  some  days  of  the  most  unspa- 
ring self-condemnation,  irnbittered  by  an  indefinite 
feeling  of  disappointment,  she  fell  into  a  dangerous 
illness,  and  in  the  paroxysms  of  her  fever  she  pray- 
ed fervently  that  her  Creator  would  resume  the  spirit 
which  had  been  too  weak  to  maintain  its  fidehty. 
It  seemed  as  if  her  prayer  was  soon  to  be  granted ; 
she  felt  herself,  and  was  pronounced  by  her  physician, 
to  be  on  the  verge  of  the  grave.  She  then  was  in- 
spired with  a  strong  desire,  proceeding,  as  she  be- 
lieved, from  a  divine  intimation,  but  which  might 
possibly  have  sprung  from  natural  feeling,  to  open 
her  heart  to  Everell.  This  disclosure,  followed  by 
her  dying  admonition,  would,  she  hoped,  rescue  him 
from  the  vanities  of  youth.  She  accordingly  request- 
ed her  mother  to  conduct  him  to  her  bedside,  and  to 
leave  them  alone  for  a  few  moments  ;  and  when  her 
request  was  complied  with,  she  made  to  the  aston- 
ished youth,  in  the  simplicity  and  sincerity  of  her 
heart,  a  confession  that,  in  other  circumstances,  the 
rack  would  not  have  extorted. 

At  first  Fletcher  fancied  her  reason  was  touched. 
He  soothed  her,  and  attempted  to  withdraw  to  call 
her  attendants.  She  interpreted  his  thoughts,  assured 
him  he  was  mistaken,  and  begged  that  he  would  not 
waste  one  moment  of  her  ebbing  life.  He  then  knelt 
at  her  bedside,  took  her  burning  hand  in  his,  and 
bathed  it  with  tears  of  deep  commiseration  and  ten- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  203 

(ler  regret.  He  promised  to  lay  up  her  exhortations 
in  his  heart,  and  cherish  them  as  the  law  of  his  life ; 
but  he  did  not  intimate  that  he  had  ever  felt  a  senti- 
ment responding  to  hers.  There  was  that  in  the  so- 
lemnity of  the  death-bed,  in  her  purity  and  truth, 
that  would  have  rebuked  the  slightest  insincerity, 
however  benevolent  the  feeling  that  dictated  it. 

This  strange  interview  lasted  but  a  few  moments. 
]\Iiss  Downing,  in  the  energy  of  her  feeling,  raised 
herself  on  her  elbow ;  the  effort  exhausted  her,  and 
she  sunk  back  in  a  stupor  which  appeared  to  be  the 
immediate  precursor  of  death.  Her  friends  flocked 
round  her,  and  Fletcher  retired  to  his  own  room, 
filled  with  sorrowful  concern  at  the  involuntary  in- 
fluence he  had  exercised  on  this  sensitive  being,  who 
seemed  to  him  far  better  fitted  for  heaven  than  for 
earth. 

But  Miss  Downing  was  not  destined  yet  to  be 
translated  to  a  more  congenial  sphere.  Her  unbur- 
dened heart  reposed  after  its  long  struggles ;  the 
original  cause  of  her  disease  was  lightened,  if  not 
removed  ;  and  the  elasticity  of  a  youthful  constitution 
rose  victorious  over  her  malady.  She  never  men- 
tioned Everell  Fletcher ;  but  she  heard,  incidental- 
ly, that  he  had  remained  at  her  father's  till  she  was 
pronounced  out  of  danger,  and  had  then  gone  to  his 
uncle  Stretton's  in  Suflfolk. 

The  following  autumn,  her  father,  in  compliance 
with  a  request  of  Madam  Winthrop,  and  in  the  hope 
that  a  voyage  would  benefit  her  health,  which  was 
still  delicate,  sent  her  to  Boston.     There  she  met 


S64 


HOPE    LESLIE. 


Hope  Leslie — a  bright,  gay  spirit — an  allegro  to  her 
penseroso.  They  were  unlike  in  everything  that  dis- 
tinguished each ;  and  it  was  therefore  more  proba- 
ble, judging  from  experience,  that  they  would  be- 
come mutually  attached.  Whatever  the  theory  of 
the  affections  may  be,  the  fact  was  that  they  soon 
became  inseparable  and  confidential  friends.  Hope 
sometimes  ventured  to  rally  Esther  on  her  over-scru- 
pulousness, and  Miss  Downing  often  rebuked  the 
laughing  girl's  gayety ;  but,  however  variant  their 
dispositions,  they  melted  into  each  other  like  light 
into  shade,  each  enhancing  the  beauty  and  effect  of 
the  other. 

Hope  often  spoke  of  Everell,  for  he  was  associa- 
ted with  all  the  most  interesting  recollections  of  her 
childhood,  and  probably  with  her  visions  of  the  fu- 
ture ;  for  what  girl  of  seventeen  has  not  a  lord  for 
her  air-built  castles  ? 

Miss  Downing  listened  calmly  to  her  description 
of  the  hero  of  her  imagination,  but  never,  by  word 
or  sign,  gave  token  that  she  knew  aught  of  him  oth- 
er than  was  told  her  3  and  the  secret  might  have 
died  with  her,  had  not  her  emotion  at  Everell's  un- 
expected appearance  half  revealed  the  state  of  her 
heart  to  her  quick-sighted  friend.  This  revelation 
she  finished  by  a  full  confession,  interrupted  by  tears 
of  bitter  mortiiication. 

"  Oh  I"  she  concluded,  "  had  I  but  known  how  to 
watch  and  rule  my  own  spirit,  I  should  have  been 
saved  these  pangs  of  remorse  and  shame." 

"  My  dear  Esther,"  said  Hope,  brushing  away  the 


riOPE    LESLIE.  ^05 

tears  of  sympathy  that  suffused  her  eyes,  "  I  assure 
you  I  am  not  crying  because  I  consider  it  a  crying 
case ;  you  people  that  dwell  in  the  clouds  have  al- 
ways a  mist  before  you ;  now  I  can  see  that  your 
path  is  plain,  and  sure  the  end  thereof;  just  give 
yourself  up  to  my  guidance,  who,  though  not  half 
so  good  and  wise  as  you  are,  am  far  more  sure-foot- 
ed. I  do  not  doubt  in  the  least  Everell  feels  all  he 
ought  to  feel.  I  defy  anybody  to  know  you  and  not 
love  you,  Esther.  And  do  you  not  see  that,  if  he 
had  made  any  declaration  at  the  time,  it  might  have 
seemed  as  if  he  were  moved  by  pity  or  gratitude  ? 
He  knew  you  were  coming  to  New-England,  and 
that  he  was  to  follow  youj  and  now  he  has  an- 
ticipated his  return  by  some  wrecks,  and  why  nobody 
knows,  and  it  must  be  because  you  are  here :  don't 
you  think  so  ?  You  will  not  speak,  but  I  know  by 
your  smile  what  you  think  as  well  as  if  you  did." 

Arguments  appear  very  sound  that  are  fortified  by 
our  wishes,  and  Miss  Downing's  face  w'as  assuming 
a  more  cheerful  expression,  when  Jennet  (our  old 
friend  Jennet)  came  into  the  room  to  give  the  young 
ladies  notice  to  prepare  for  dinner,  and  to  inform 
them  that  Sir  Philip  Gardiner  was  to  dine  with  them  3 
"  and  a  godly  appearing  man  he  is,"  said  Jennet, 
"  as  ever  I  laid  my  eyes  on ;  and  it  is  a  wonder  to 
me  that  our  Mr.  Everell  should  have  fallen  into  such 
profitable  company ;  for,  I  am  sorry  to  see  it  and 
loath  to  say  it,  he  looks  as  gay  as  when  he  used  to 
play  his  mad  pranks  at  Bethel ;  when  it  was  next  to 
an  impossibility  to  keep  you  and  him,  Miss  Hope, 

Vol.  I.^-S 


206  HOPE    LESLiE. 

from  talking  and  laughing  even  on  a  Sabbath  day. 
I  think,"  she  continued,  glancing  her  eye  at  Miss 
Downing,  "  sober  companions  do  neither  of  you  any 
good  ;  and  it  is  so  strange  Mr.  Everell  should  come 
home  with  his  hair  looking  like  one  of  those  heathen 
pictures  of  your  aunt's." 

"  Oh !  hush.  Jennet !  It  w^ould  be  a  sin  to  crop 
those  dark  locks  of  Mr.  Everell." 

"  A  sin  indeed,  Miss  Leslie  !  That  is  the  w^ay  you 
always  turn  things  wrong  side  out ;  a  sin  to  have  his 
hair  cut  like  his  father's — or  the  honourable  govern- 
or's— or  this  Sir  Philip  Gardiner's — or  any  other 
Christian  man's." 

"  Well,  Jennet,  I  wish  it  would  come  into  your 
wise  head  that  Christian  tongues  were  not  made  for 
railing.  As  to  my  being  serious  to-day,  that  is  en- 
tirely out  of  the  question ;  therefore  you  may  spare 
yourself  hint  and  exhortation,  and  go  to  my  aunt, 
and  ask  her  for  my  blue  bodice  and  necklace.  But 
no — "  she  said,  stopping  Jennet,  for  she  recollected 
that  she  had  directed  the  blue  bodice  because  it 
matched  her  blue  fillet,  Everell's  gift,  and  a  secret 
voice  told  her  she  had  best,  under  existing  circum- 
stances, lay  that  favourite  badge  aside.  "  No,  Jen- 
net, bring  me  my  pink  bodice  and  my  ruby  locket." 
Jennet  obeyed,  but  not  without  muttering,  as  she  left 
the  room,  a  remonstrance  against  the  vanities  of  dress. 

Jennet  was  one  of  those  persons,  abounding  in 
every  class  of  life,  whose  virtues  are  most  conspicu- 
ous in  "  damning  sins  they  are  not  inclined  to." 
We  ought,  perhaps,  to  apologize  for  obtruding  so 


HOPE    LESLIE,  207 

humble  and  disagreeable  a  personage  upon  our  read- 
ers. But  the  truth  is,  she  figured  too  much  on  the 
family  record  of  the  Fletchers  to  be  suppressed  by 
their  faithful  historian.  Those  personages  ycleped 
bores  in  the  copious  vocabulary  of  modern  times, 
seem  to  be  a  necessary  ingredient  in  life,  and,  like 
pinching  shoes  and  smoky  rooms,  constitute  a  por- 
tion of  its  trials.  Jennet  had  first  found  favour  with 
Mrs.  Fletcher  from  her  religious  exterior.  To  em- 
ploy none  but  godly  servants  was  a  rule  of  the  Pil- 
grims ;  and  there  were  certain  set  phrases  and  modes 
of  dress  which  produced  no  slight  impression  upon 
the  minds  of  the  credulous.  To  do  Jennet  justice, 
she  had  many  temporal  virtues;  and  though  her  re- 
ligion was  of  the  ritual  order,  and,  therefore,  partic- 
ularly disagreeable  to  her  spiritual  mistress,  yet  her 
household  faculties  were  invaluable,  for  then,  as  now, 
in  the  interior  of  New-England,  a  faithful  servant 
was  hke  the  genius  of  a  fairy  tale — no  family  could 
hope  for  more  than  one. 

Long  possession  legalized  Jennet's  rights  and  in- 
creased her  tyrannical  humours,  which  were  natural- 
ly most  freely  exercised  on  those  members  of  the 
family  who  had  grown  from  youth  to  maturity  under 
her  eye.  In  nothing  was  the  sweetness  of  Hope  Les- 
lie's temper  more  conspicuous  than  in  the  perfect 
good-nature  with  which  she  bore  the  teasing  imper- 
tinences of  this  menial,  who,  like  a  cross  cur,  was 
ready  to  bark  at  every  passer  by. 

Youth  and  beauty  abridge  the  labours  of  the  toilet, 
and  our  young  friends,  though  on  this  occasion  unu- 


208  HOPE    LESLIE. 

sually  solicitous  about  the  impression  they  were  to 
make,  were  not  long  in  attiring  themselves;  and 
when  Mrs.  Grafton  presented  herself  to  attend  them 
to  dinner,  they  were  awaiting  her.  "Upon  my 
word,"  she  said, "  young  ladies,  you  have  done  hon- 
our to  the  occasion ;  it  is  not  every  day  we  have  two 
gentlemen  fresh  from  Old  England  to  dine  with  us ; 
I  am  glad  you  have  shown  yourselves  sensible  of  the 
importance  of  the  becomings.  It  is  every  woman's 
duty,  upon  all  occasions,  to  look  as  well  as  she  can." 

"  And  a  duty  so  faithfully  performed,  my  dear 
aunt,"  said  Hope,  "  that  I  fancy,  like  other  duties,  it 
becomes  easy  from  habit." 

"  Easy !"  replied  Mrs.  Grafton,  with  perfect  na- 
"iveU ;  "second  nature,  my  dear,  second  nature.  I 
was  taught,  from  a  child,  to  determine,  the  first  thing 
in  the  morning,  what  I  should  wear  that  day ;  and 
now  it  is  as  natural  to  me  as  to  open  my  eyes  when 
I  Avake." 

"  I  should  think,  madam,"  said  Esther, "  that  oth- 
er and  higher  thoughts  were  more  fitting  a  rational 
creature,  preserved  through  the  night-watches." 

Hope  was  exquisitely  susceptible  to  her  aunt's 
frailties,  but  she  would  fain  have  sheltered  them 
from  the  observation  of  others.  "  Now,  my  gentle 
Esther,"  she  whispered  to  Miss  Downing, "  lecturing 
is  not  your  vocation,  and  this  is  not  lecture-day.  On 
jubilee-days  slaves  were  set  free,  you  know,  and  why 
should  not  folhes  be  ?" 

Miss  Downing  could  not  have  failed  to  have  made 
some  sage  reply  to  her  friend's  casuistry,  but  the 


HOPE    LESLIE.  209 

ringing  of  a  bell  announced  the  dinner,  and  the  young 
ladies,  arm  in  arm,  followed  Mrs.  Grafton  to  the  di- 
ning-room. Just  as  they  entered,  Hope  whispered, 
"  Remember,  Esther,  the  festal  day  is  sacred,  and 
may  not  be  violated  by  a  sad  countenance."  This 
■was  a  well-timed  caution ;  it  called  a  slight  tinge  to 
Miss  Downing's  cheeks,  and  relieved  her  too  ex- 
pressive paleness. 

Everell  Fletcher  met  them  at  the  door.  The 
light  of  his  happiness  seemed  to  gild  every  object. 
He  complimented  Mrs.  Grafton  on  her  appearance ; 
told  her  she  had  not  in  the  least  changed  since  he 
saw  her — an  implied  compliment,  always,  after  a 
woman  has  passed  a  certain  age.  He  congratulated 
Miss  Downing  upon  the  very  apparent  effect  of  the 
climate  on  her  health ;  and  then,  breaking  through 
the  embarrassment  that  slightly  constrained  him  in 
addressing  her,  he  turned  to  Hope  Leslie,  and  they 
talked  of  the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future  with 
spontaneous  animation,  their  feelings  according  and 
harmonizing  as  naturally  as  the  music  of  the  stars 
when  they  sang  together. 

S  2 


210  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

"  Our  New-England  shall  tell  and  boast  of  her  Winthrop,  a  law- 
giver as  patient  as  Lycurgus,  but  not  admitting  any  of  his  criminal 
disorders  ;  as  devout  as  Numa,  but  not  liable  to  any  of  his  heathen- 
ish madnesses  ;  a  governor  in  whom  the  excellences  of  Christianity 
made  a  most  improving  addition  unto  the  virtues,  wherein,  even  with- 
out those,  he  would  have  made  a.  parallel  for  the  great  men  of  Greece 
or  of  Rome,  which  the  pen  of  a  Plutarch  has  eternized."— Cotton 
Mather. 

The  governor's  house  stood  in  the  main  street 
(Washington-street),  on  the  ground  now  occupied 
by  "  South  Row."  There  was  a  little  court  in  front 
of  it ;  on  one  side  a  fine  garden  ;  on  the  other  a 
beautiful  lawn,  or,  as  it  was  called,  "  green,"  ex- 
tending to  the  corner  on  which  the  "Old  South" 
(Church)  now  stands,  and  an  ample  yard  and  offices 
in  the  rear. 

The  mighty  master  of  fiction  has  but  to  wave  his 
wand  to  present  the  past  to  his  readers  with  all  the 
vividness  and  distinctness  of  the  present  j  but  we, 
who  follow  him  at  an  immeasurable  distance — we, 
who  have  no  magician's  enchantments,  wherewith 
we  can  imitate  the  miracles  wrought  by  the  rod  of 
the  prophet — we  must  betake  ourselves  to  the  com- 
pass and  the  rule,  and  set  forth  our  description  as 
minutely  and  exactly  as  if  we  were  making  out  an 
inventory  for  a  salesman.  In  obedience  to  this  ne- 
cessity, we  offer  the  following  detailed  description 


HOPE    LESLIE.  211 

of  the  internal  economy  of  a  Pilgrim  mansion,  not 
on  any  apocryphal  authority,  but  quoted  from  an  au- 
thentic record  of  the  times. 

"  In  the  principal  houses  was  a  great  hall,  orna- 
mented with  pictures ;  a  great  lantern ;  velvet  cush- 
ions in  the  window-seat  to  look  into  the  garden :  on 
either  side  a  great  parlour,  a  little  parlour  or  study, 
furnished  with  great  looking-glasses,  Turkey  carpets, 
window-curtains  and  valance,  picture  and  a  map,  a 
brass  clock,  red  leather-back  chairs,  a  great  pair  of 
brass  andirons  :  the  chambers  well  furnished  with 
feather  beds,  warming-pans,  and  every  other  ele- 
gance and  comfort :  the  pantry  well  filled  with 
substantial  fare  and  dainties,  Madeira  wine,  prunes, 
marmalade,  silver  tankards  and  wine-cups  not  un- 
common." 

If  any  are  incredulous  as  to  the  correctness  of  the 
above  extract,  we  assure  them  that  its  truth  is  con- 
firmed by  the  spaciousness  of  the  Pilgrim  habitations 
still  standing  in  Boston,  and  occupied  by  their  de- 
scendants. These  Pilgrims  were  not  needy  adven- 
turers nor  ruined  exiles.  Mr.  Winthrop  himself  had 
an  estate  in  England  worth  seven  hundred  pounds 
per  annum.  Some  of  his  associates  came  from  lordly 
halls,  and  many  of  them  brought  wealth,  as  well  as 
virtue,  to  the  colony. 

The  rigour  of  the  climate,  and  the  embarrassments 
incident  to  their  condition,  often  reduced  the  Pil- 
grims, in  their  earliest  period,  to  the  wants  of  extreme 
poverty ;  but  their  sufferings  had  the  dignity  and 
merit  of  being  voluntary,  and  are  now,  as  the  tat- 


212  HOPE    LESLIE. 

tered  garments  of  the  saints  are  to  the  faithful,  sa- 
cred in  the  eyes  of  their  posterity. 

Our  humble  history  has  little  to  do  with  the  pub- 
lic life  of  Governor  Winthrop,  which  is  so  well 
known  to  have  been  illustrated  by  the  rare  virtue  of 
disinterested  patriotism,  and  by  such  even  and  pa- 
ternal goodness,  that  a  contemporary  witty  satirist 
could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  give  him  a  harsher 
name  than  "  Sir  John  Temperwell."  His  figure  (if 
we  may  trust  to  the  fidelity  of  his  painter)  was  tall 
and  spare ;  his  eye  dark  blue,  and  mild  in  its  ex- 
pression :  he  had  the  upraised  brow,  which  is  said  to 
be  indicative  of  a  religious  disposition ;  his  hair  and 
his  beard,  which  he  w^ore  long,  w^ere  black.  On  the 
whole,  we  must  confess,  the  external  man  presents 
the  solemn  and  forbidding  aspect  of  the  times  in 
which  he  flourished :  though  we  know  him  to  have 
been  a  model  of  private  virtue,  gracious  and  gentle 
in  his  manners,  and  exact  in  the  observance  of  all 
gentlemanly  courtesy. 

His  wife  was  admirably  qualified  for  the  station 
she  occupied.  She  recognised,  and  continually 
taught  to  matron  and  maiden,  the  duty  of  unquali- 
fied obedience  from  the  wife  to  the  husband,  her  ap- 
pointed lord  and  master  -,  a  duty  that  it  was  left  to 
modern  heresy  to  dispute,  and  which  our  pious  fa- 
thers, or  even  mothers,  were  so  far  from  questioning, 
that  the  only  divine  right  to  govern  which  they  ac- 
knowledged was  that  vested  in  the  husband  over 
the  wife.  Madam  Winthrop's  matrimonial  virtue 
never  degenerated  into  the  slavishness  of  fear  or  the 


HOPE    LESLIE.  213 

obsequiousness  of  servility.  If  authorized  and  ap- 
proved by  principle,  it  was  prompted  by  feeling; 
and,  if  we  may  be  allowed  a  coarse  comparison,  like 
a  horse  easy  on  the  bit,  she  was  guided  by  the  slight- 
est intimation  from  him  who  held  the  rein ;  indeed, 
to  pursue  our  humble  illustration  still  farther,  it 
sometimes  appeared  as  if  the  reins  were  dropped, 
and  the  inferior  animal  were  left  to  the  guidance  of 
her  own  sagacity. 

Without  ever  overstepping  the  limits  of  feminine 
propriety.  Madam  Winthrop  manifestly  enjoyed  the 
dignity  of  her  official  station,  and  felt  that  if  the 
governor  were  the  greater,  she  was  the  lesser  light. 
There  was  a  shght  tinge  of  official  importance  in  her 
manner  of  conferring  her  hospitalities  and  her  coun- 
sel ;  but  she  seemed  rather  to  intend  to  heighten  the 
value  of  the  gift  than  the  merit  of  the  giver. 

Governor  Winthrop  possessed  the  patriarchal 
blessing  of  a  numerous  offspring ;  but,  as  they  w'ere 
in  no  way  associated  with  the  personages  of  our 
story,  we  have  not  thought  fit  to  encumber  it  with 
any  details  concerning  them. 

We  return  from  our  long  digression  to  the  party 
we  left  in  Governor  Winthrop's  parlour. 

The  tables  were  arranged  for  dinner.  Tables,  we 
say,  for  a  side-table  was  spread,  but  in  a  manner  so 
inferior  to  the  principal  board,  which  was  garnished 
with  silver  tankards,  wine-cups,  and  rich  china,  as  to 
indicate  that  it  was  destined  for  inferior  guests. 
This  indication  was  soon  verified ;  for,  on  a  servant 
being  sent  to  announce  dinner  to  Governor  Winthrop, 


214  HOPE    LESLIE. 

who  was  understood  to  be  occupied  with  some  of  the 
natives  on  state  business,  that  gentleman  appeared, 
attended  by  four  Indians :  Miantunnomoh,  the  young 
and  noble  chief  of  the  Narragansetts,  two  of  his 
counsellors,  and  an  interpreter.  Hope  turned  to 
Everell  to  remark  on  the  graceful  gestures  by  which 
they  expressed  their  salutations  to  the  company  : 
"  Good  Heavens !"  she  exclaimed,  "  Everell,  what 
ails  you  ?"  for  she  saw  that  he  was  as  pale  as  death. 

*' Nothing,  nothing,"  said  Everell,  wishing  to 
avoid  observation,  and  turning  towards  the  window : 
he  then  added,  in  explanation  to  Hope,  who  follow- 
ed him,  "  these  are  the  first  Indians  I  have  seen  since 
my  return,  and  they  brought  too  vividly  to  mind 
my  dear  mother's  death." 

Governor  Winthrop  motioned  to  his  Indian  guests 
to  take  their  seats  at  the  side-table,  and  the  rest  of 
the  company,  including  the  elder  Fletcher  and  Cra- 
dock,  surrounded  the  dinner-table,  and  serving-men 
and  all  reverently  folded  their  arms  and  bowed  their 
heads  while  the  grace  or  prefatory  prayer  was  pro- 
nouncing. 

After  all  the  rest  had  taken  their  seats,  the  Indians 
remained  standing;  and  although  the  governor  po- 
litely signified  to  the  interpreter  that  their  delay 
wronged  the  smoking  viands,  they  remained  motion- 
less, the  chief  drawn  aside  from  the  rest,  his  eye  cast 
down,  his  brow  lowering,  and  his  whole  aspect  ex- 
pressive of  proud  displeasure. 

The  governor  rose,  and  demanded  of  the  interpret- 
er the  meaning  of  their  too  evident  dissatisfaction. 


HOPE    LESLie.  215 

"  My  chief  bids  me  say,"  replied  the  savage, "  that 
he  expects  such  treatment  from  the  English  saga- 
more as  the  English  receive  in  the  wigwam  of  the 
Narragansett  chief.  He  says  that  when  the  English 
stranger  visits  him,  he  sits  on  his  mat  and  eats  from 
his  dish." 

"  Tell  your  chief,"  replied  the  governor,  who  had 
urgent  state  reasons  for  conciliating  Miantunnomoh, 
"  that  I  pray  him  to  overlook  the  wrong  I  have  done 
him:  he  is  right;  he  deserves  the  place  of  honour. 
I  have  heard  of  his  hospitable  deeds,  and  that  he 
doth  give  more  than  even  ground  to  his  guests ;  for 
our  friend,  Roger  Wilhams,  informed  us  that  he  hath 
known  him,  wdth  his  family,  to  sleep  abroad  to  make 
room  in  his  wigwam  for  Enojlish  visiters." 

Governor  Winthrop  added  the  last  circumstance 
partly  as  a  full  confession  of  his  fault,  and  partly  as 
an  apology  to  his  helpmate,  who  looked  a  good  deal 
disconcerted  by  the  disarrangement  of  her  dinner. 
However,  she  proceeded  to  give  the  necessary  orders ; 
the  table  w^as  remodelled,  a  sufficient  addition  made, 
and  the  haughty  chief,  his  countenance  relaxing  to 
an  expression  of  grave  satisfaction,  took  his  seat  at 
the  governor's  right  hand.  His.  associates  being 
properly  accommodated  at  the  table,  the  rest  of  the 
company  resumed  their  stations. 

Everell  cast  his  eye  around  on  the  various  viands 
which  covered  the  hospitable  board.  "  Times  have 
mended,"  he  said,  to  Madam  Winthrop,  "  in  my  ab- 
sence. I  remember  once  sitting  down  with  my  fa- 
ther to  a  good  man's  table,  on  which  was  nothing 


^16  HOPE    LESLIE. 

but  a  sorry  dish  of  clams ;  but  our  host  made  up  for 
the  defect  of  his  entertainment  by  the  excess  of  his 
gratitude,  for,  as  I  remember,  he  gave  thanks  that 
'  we  were  permitted  to  eat  of  the  abundance  of  the 
seas,  and  of  treasures  hid  in  the  sand.' " 

Hope  LesHe  understood  so  well  the  temper  of  tlie 
company  she  was  in,  that  she  instantly  perceived  a 
slight  depression  of  their  mercury  at  what  appeared 
to  them  a  tone  of  levity  in  Everell.  She  interposed 
her  shield.  "  What  may  we  expect  from  the  future," 
she  said,  "  if  now  it  seems  strange  to  us  that,  ten 
years  ago,  the  best  in  the  colony  were  reduced  to 
living  upon  muscles,  acorns,  and  ground-nuts  ;  and 
that  our  bountiful  governor,  having  shared  his  flour 
and  meat  with  the  poorest  in  the  land,  had  his  last 
batch  of  bread  in  the  oven,  w^hen  the  ship  with  suc- 
cours arrived  ?  the  Lion,  or  the  Blessing  of  the  Bay — 
•which  was  it.  Master  Cradock  ?  for  it  was  you  who 
told  me  the  story,"  she  added,  bending  towards  Cra- 
dock, who  sat  opposite  to  her. 

Cradock,  who  always  felt,  at  the  least  notice  from 
Hope,  an  emotion  similar  to  that  of  a  pious  Catholic 
when  he  fancies  the  image  of  the  saint  he  worships 
to  bend  propitiously  towards  him — Cradock  dropped 
his  knife  and  fork,  and  erecting  his  body  with  one 
of  those  sudden  jerks  characteristic  of  awkward  men, 
he  hit  the  elbow  of  a  servant,  who  was  just  placing 
a  gravy-boat  on  the  table,  and  brought  the  gravy 
down  on  his  little  brown  wig,  whence  it  found  its 
way,  in  many  a  bubbling  rill,  over  his  face,  neck, 
and  shoulders. 


ilOPE    LESLIE.  Sl^ 

A  murmur  of  sympathy  and  suppressed  laughter 
ran  around  the  table ;  and  while  a  servant,  at  his 
mistress's  bidding,  was  applying  napkins  to  Cradock, 
he  seemed  only  intent  upon  replying  to  Miss  Leslie. 
"  It  was  the  Lion,  Miss  Hope ;  ha,  indeed,  a  won- 
derful memory  !  yes,  yes,  it  was  the  Lion.  The 
Blessing  of  the  Bay  was  the  governor's  own  vessel." 

"  That  name,"  said  Sir  Philip  Gardiner,  in  a  low 
tone  to  Hope  Leslie,  next  w^hom  he  sat,  "  should,  I 
think,  have  been  reserved,  where  names  are  signifi- 
cant, for  a  more  just  appropriation." 

He  spoke  in  a  tone  of  confidential  gallantry  so 
discordant  with  his  demeanour,  that  the  fair  listener 
lost  the  matter  in  the  manner;  and,  turning  to  him 
W'ith  one  of  those  looks  so  confounding  to  a  man  w^ho 
means  to  speak  but  to  one  ear  in  the  company, 
"  What  did  you  say,  sir  V  she  asked. 

"  He  said,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Grafton,  who  sat 
at  the  knight's  left  hand,  and  who  would  have  con- 
sidered it  worse  to  suppress  a  compliment  than  to 
conceal  treason,  "  he  said,  my  dear,  that  you  should 
have  been  named  the  Blessing  of  the  Bay." 

Sir  Philip  recoiled  a  little  at  this  flat  version  of 
his  compliment;  but  he  had  other  interests  to  sus- 
tain more  important  than  his  knightly  courtesy,  and 
he  was  just  contriving  something  to  say  which  might 
secure  him  a  safe  passage  past  Scylla  and  Charyb- 
dis,  when  Madam  Winthrop,  who  was  exclusively 
occupied  with  the  duty  of  presiding,  begged  Sir 
Philip  w^ould  change  his  plate,  and  take  a  piece  of 
wild  turkey,  which  she  could  recommend  as  savoury 

Vol.  L—T 


218  HOPE   LESLIE. 

and  tender ;  or  a  piece  of  the  venison — the  venison, 
she  said,  was  a  present  from  the  son  of  their  good  old 
friend  and  ally,  Chicatabot,  and  she  was  sure  it  was 
of  the  best. 

The  knight  declined  the  proffered  delicacies,  aU 
leging  he  had  already  been  tempted  to  excess  by 
the  cod's  head  and  shoulders — a  rarity  to  a  Euro- 
pean. 

"  But,"  said  Miss  Leslie,  "  you  will  not  dine  on 
fish  alone,  and  on  Friday  too  ?  why,  w^e  shall  suspect 
you  of  being  a  Romanist." 

If  there  was  anything  in  the  unwonted  blush  that 
deepened  the  knight's  complexion  which  might  lead 
an  observer  to  suspect  that  an  aimless  dart  had 
touched  a  vulnerable  point,  he  adroitly  averted  sus- 
picion, by  saying  "  that  he  trusted  temperance  and 
self-denial  w^ere  not  confined  to  a  corrupt  and  super- 
stitious Church,  and  that,  for  himself,  he  found  much 
use  in  voluntary  mortifications  of  appetite." 

"  Fastings  oft,"  said  Cradock,  who  had  been  play- 
ing the  part  of  a  valiant  trencherman,  taking  liber- 
ally of  all  of  the  various  feast,  "  fastings  oft  are  an 
excellent  thing  for  those  who  have  grace  for  them  ; 
and  yours,  Sir  Philip,  if  one  may  judge  from  the  rud- 
diness of  your  complexion,  are  wonderfully  prosper- 
ed." The  knight  received  the  simple  compliment 
with  a  silent  bow. 

Cradock  turned  to  Miss  Downing,  who  sat  on  his 
right :  "  Now,  Miss  Esther,  you  do  wrong  yourself; 
there  is  that  pigeon's  wing,  just  as  I  gave  it  to  you  1" 

Hope  Leslie  looked  up  with  a  deprecating  glance, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  219 

as  if  she  would  have  said,  "  Heaven  help  my  tutor ! 
he  never  moves  without  treading  on  somebody's 
toes." 

"Is  not  Miss  Downing  well?"  asked  the  elder 
Fletcher,  who  now,  for  the  first  time,  noticed  that  she 
looked  unusually  pale  and  pensive. 

"  Perfectly  well,"  said  Esther. 

"  Indifferently  well,  my  dear,  you  mean,"  said 
Madam  Winthrop.  "  Esther,"  she  added,  "  always 
feeds  like  a  Canary  bird ;  but  I  never  despair  of  a 
young  lady  :  they  have  all  the  chameleon  gift  of  liv- 
ing upon  air." 

"  Will  Miss  Downing  mend  her  appetite  with 
wine,"  asked  young  Fletcher,  "  and  allow  me  the 
honour  of  taking  it  with  her  ?" 

"  Everell !"  exclaimed  Hope,  touching  his  elbow, 
but  not  in  time  to  check  him. 

"  My  son  !"  said  his  father,  in  a  voice  of  rebuke. 

"  Mr.  Fletcher  !"  exclaimed  Governor  Winthrop, 
in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"  What  have  I  done  now  ?"  asked  Everell  of  Hope 
Leslie;  but  Hope  was  too  much  diverted  with  his 
mistake  and  honest  consternation  to  reply. 

"  You  have  done  nothing  inexcusable,  my  young 
friend,"  said  the  governor ;  "  for  you  probably  did 
not  know  that  the  vain  custom  of  drinking  one  to 
another,  has  been  disused  at  my  table  for  ten  years ; 
and  that  our  general  court  prohibited  this  '  employ- 
ment of  the  creature  out  of  its  natural  use'  by  their 
order  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1639,  four  years  since ; 
so  that  the  custom  hath  become  quite  obsolete  with 


220  HOPE    LESLIE. 

US,  though  it  may  be  still  in  practice  among  our  lax- 
er  brethren  of  England." 

"  With  due  deference  I  speak,"  said  Everell, "  to 
my  elders  and  superiors ;  but  it  really  appears  to  me 
to  border  on  the  Quixotism  of  fighting  windmills  to 
make  laws  against  so  innocent  a  custom." 

"  No  vanity  is  innocent,  Mr.  Everell  Fletcher," 
replied  the  governor,  "  as  you  will  yourself,  after 
proper  consideration,  confess.  Tell  me,  when  but 
now  you  would  have  proffered  wishes  of  health  to 
my  niece  Esther,  was  it  not  an  empty  compliment, 
and  not  meant  by  you  for  an  argument  of  love,  which 
should  always  be  unfeigned  ?' 

The  governor's  proposition  appeared  to  himself 
to  be  merely  an  abstract  metaphysical  truth ;  but  to 
the  younger  part  of  his  audience,  at  least,  it  convey- 
ed much  more  than  met  the  ear. 

Miss  Downing  blushed  deeply,  and  Everell  at- 
tempted, in  vain,  to  stammer  a  reply.  Hope  Leslie 
perceived  the  pit,  and  essayed  a  safe  passage  over  it. 
"Esther,"  she  said,"  Everell  shall  not  be  our  knight 
at  tilt  or  tournament,  if  he  cannot  use  the  lance  your 
uncle  has  dropped  at  his  feet.  Are  there  not  always, 
Everell,  in  your  heart,  arguments  of  love  unfeigned 
when  you  drink  to  the  health  of  a  fair  lady  ?" 

Before  Everell  had  time  to  reply  except  by  a 
sparkling  glance,  the  governor  said,  "  This  is  some- 
what too  light  a  discussion  of  a  serious  topic." 

This  rebuke  quenched  at  once  the  spark  of  gayety 
Hope  had  kindled ;  and  the  dinner,  never  a  prolonged 
meal  in  this  pattern  mansion,  was  finished  without 


HOPE    LESLIE.  221 

any  other  conversation  than  that  exacted  by  the  or* 
dinary  courtesies  of  the  table. 

After  the  repast  was  ended,  the  Indian  chief  took 
his  leave  with  much  fainter  expressions  of  attachment 
than  he  had  vouchsafed  on  a  former  visit,  as  the  gov- 
ernor had  afterward  occasion  to  remember. 

The  party  dispersed  in  various  directions,  and  the 
governor  withdrew,  with  the  elder  Fletcher,  to  his 
study.  When  there.  Governor  Winthrop  lighted  his 
pipe,  a  luxury  in  which  he  sparingly  indulged ;  and 
then,  looking  over  a  packet  of  letters,  he  selected 
one  and  handed  it  to  Mr.  Fletcher,  saying,  "  There 
is  an  epistle  from  Brother  Downing  which  your  son 
has  brought  to  me.  Read  it  yourself;  you  will  per- 
ceive that  he  has  stated  his  views  on  a  certain  sub- 
ject, interesting  to  you  and  to  us  all ;  and  stated 
them  directly,  without  any  of  the  circumlocution  and 
ambiguity  which  a  worldly-minded  man  would  have 
employed  on  a  like  occasion." 

Mr.  Downing  introduced  the  important  topic  of  his 
epistle,  Avhich  Mr.  Fletcher  read  with  the  deepest  at- 
tention, by  saying  that  "  Fletcher,  junior,  returns  to 
the  colony  a  fit  instrument,  as  I  trust,  to  promote  its 
welfare  and  honour.  He  is  gifted  with  divers  and 
goodly  talents,  and  graced  with  sufficient  learning. 

"  I  have  often  been  sorely  wounded  at  hearing  the 
censures  passed  on  our  brother  Fletcher  for  having 
sent  his  son  into  the  bosom  of  a  prelatical  family, 
but  I  confidently  believe  the  youth  returns  to  his 
own  country  with  his  Puritan  principles  uncorrupted ; 
although,  it  is  too  true,  as  our  stricter  brethren  often 
T2 


222  HOPE   LESLIE. 

remark^  that  he  has  little  of  the  outward  man  of  a 
*  Pilgrim  indeed.' 

"  He  is,  Brother  Winthrop,  a  high-metalled  youth, 
and  on  this  account  I  feel,  as  you  doubtless  will,  the 
urgency  of  coupling  him  with  a  member  of  the  con- 
gregation, and  one  who  may,  in  all  likelihood,  ac- 
complish for  him  that  precious  promise  of  the  apos- 
tle, '  the  believing  wife  shall  sanctify  the  unbelieving- 
husband.' 

"I  have  already  taken  the  first  step  towards 
bringing  about  so  desirable  an  end,  by  inviting  the 
young  man  to  my  house,  where  he  spent  two  months 
of  the  summer.  I  then  favoured  his  intimate  inter- 
course with  my  well-beloved  daughter  Esther,  whose 
outward  form  I  may  say,  without  boasting,  is  a  fit 
temple  for  the  spirit  within." 

Mr.  Downing  then  proceeded  to  state  some  cir- 
cumstances already  known  to  the  reader,  and  par- 
ticularly dwelt  on  Everell's  remaining  at  his  house 
during  his  daughter's  dangerous  illness ;  touched 
lightly  on  their  having  had  an  interview,  very  affect- 
ing to  both  parties,  and  in  regard  to  the  particulars 
of  which,  both,  with  the  shyness  natural  to  youth, 
had  been  silent;  and  finally  set  forth,  in  strong 
terms,  the  concern  evinced  by  Everell  while  Esther's 
recovery  was  doubtful. 

"Notwithstanding,"  the  letter  proceeded  to  say, 
"  these  circumstances  are  so  favourable  to  my  wish- 
es, I  have  some  apprehensions ;  and  therefore,  broth- 
er, I  bespeak  your  immediate  interposition  in  behalf 
of  the  future  spiritual  prosperity  of  this  youth.     He 


HOPE    LESLIE.  223 

hath  been  assiduously  courted  by  Miss  Leslie's  pa- 
ternal connexions,  and  I  have  reason  to  believe  they 
have  solicited  him  to  marry  her  and  bring  her  to 
England.  But,  without  such  solicitation,  the  mar- 
riage is  a  probable  one.  Miss  Leslie  is  reported 
here  to  be  wanting  in  grace — a  want  that  I  fear 
would  not  impoverish  her  in  young  Fletcher's  esti- 
mation ;  and  to  be  a  maiden  of  rare  comeliness — a 
thing  precious  in  the  eyes  of  youth,  too  apt  to  set  a 
high  price  on  that  which  is  but  dust  and  ashes. 
The  young  lady  is  of  great  estate  too ;  but  that,  I 
think,  will  not  weigh  with  the  young  man,  for  I  dis- 
cern a  lofty  spirit  in  him  that  would  spurn  the  yoke 
of  Mammon.  Nor  do  I  think,  with  some  of  our 
brethren,  that  ^  gold  and  grace  did  never  yet  agree.' 
Yet  there  are  some  who  would  make  this  alliance  a 
ground  of  farther  scandal  against  our  brother  Fletch- 
er. It  is  whispered  that  his  worldly  affairs  are  not 
so  prosperous  as  we  could  wish.  Mark  me,  brother, 
my  confidence  in  him  is  unmoved,  and  I  think,  and 
am  sure,  that  he  would  not  permit  his  son  to  espouse 
this  maiden,  with  the  dowry  of  a  queen,  if  thereby 
he  endangered  his  spiritual  welfare.  But,  brother, 
you  in  the  New  World  are  as  a  city  set  on  a  hill. 
Many  lie  in  wait  for  your  halting,  and  all  appearance 
of  evil  should  be  avoided.  On  this  account  and 
many  others.  Brother  Fletcher  and  all  of  us  should 
duly  prize  that  medium  and  safe  condition  for  which 
Agur  prayed. 

"  One  more  reason  I  would  suggest,  and  then  com- 
mend the  business  to  thy  guidance,  who  art  justly 


224  HOPE    LESLIE. 

termed,  by  friend  and  foe,  the  Moses  of  God's  people 
in  the  wilderness. 

"It  seemeth  to  me,  the  motive  of  Miss  Leslie's 
mother,  in  going  with  her  offspring  to  the  colony, 
should  be  duly  weighed  and  respected.  Could  her 
purpose,  in  any  other  way,  be  so  certainly  accom- 
pHshed  as  by  uniting  her  daughter  speedily  with  a 
godly  and  approved  member  of  the  congregation  ?" 

Every  sentence  of  this  letter  stung  Mr.  Fletcher. 
He  repeatedly  threw  it  down,  rose  from  his  seat,  and 
after  taking  two  or  three  turns  across  the  study, 
screwed  his  courage  to  the  sticking  point,  and  re- 
turned to  it  again.  Governor  Winthrop's  attention 
appeared  to  be  riveted  to  a  paper  he  was  perusing, 
till  he  could  no  longer,  from  motives  of  delicacy  to 
his  friend,  affect  to  abstract  his  attention  from  him. 
Mr.  Fletcher  finished  the  letter,  and  leaning  over  the 
table,  covered  his  face  with  his  hands.  His  emotion 
could  not  be  hidden.  The  veins  in  his  temples  and 
forehead  swelled  almost  to  bursting,  and  his  tears  fell 
like  rain-drops  on  the  table.  Governor  Winthrop 
laid  his  hand  on  his  friend's  arm,  and  by  a  gentle 
pressure  expressed  a  sympathy  that  it  would  have 
been  difficult  to  imbody  in  words. 

After  a  few  moments'  struggle  with  his  feelings, 
Mr.  Fletcher  subdued  his  emotion,  and  turning  to 
Governor  Winthrop,  he  said,  with  dignity,  "  I  have 
betrayed  before  you  a  weakness  that  I  have  never 
expressed  but  in  that  gracious  Presence  where  w^eak- 
ness  is  not  degradation.  Thus  has  it  ever  pleased 
Him,  who  knows  the  infirmity  of  my  heart,  to  try  me. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  225 

From  my  youth  my  path  hath  been  hedged  up  with 
earthly  affections.  Is  it  that  I  have  myself  forged  the 
fetters  that  bind  me  to  the  earth  ?  Is  it  that  I  have 
given  to  the  creature  what  I  owed  to  the  Creator, 
that  one  after  another  of  my  earthly  delights  is  taken 
from  me  ?  that  I  am  thus  stripped  bare  ?  Oh !  it 
has  been  the  thought  that  came  unbidden  to  my 
nightly  meditations  and  my  daily  reveries,  that  I 
might  live  to  see  these  children  of  two  saints  in 
heaven  united.  This  sweet  child  is  the  image  of  her 
blessed  mother.  She  was  her  precious  legacy  to  me, 
and  she  hath  been  such  a  spirit  of  love  and  content- 
ment in  my  lone  dwelling,  that  she  hath  inwrought 
herself  with  every  fibre  of  my  heart." 

"  This  was  natural,"  said  Governor  Winthrop. 

"  Ay,  my  friend,  and  was  it  not  inevitable  ?  I  did 
think,"  he  continued,  after  a  momentary  pause,  "  that 
in  their  childhood,  their  affections,  as  if  instinct  with 
their  parents'  feelings,  mingled  in  natural  union ;  if 
their  hearts  retain  this  bent,  I  think  it  were  not  right 
to  put  a  force  upon  them." 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  his  friend  ;  "  but  the  af- 
fections of  youth  are  flexible,  and  may  be  turned 
from  their  natural  bent  by  a  skilful  hand.  It  is  our 
known  duty  to  direct  them  heavenward.  In  taking 
care  for  the  spiritual  growth  of  our  young  people, 
who  are  soon  to  stand  in  their  father's  places,  we 
do,  as  we  are  bound,  most  assuredly  build  up  the  in- 
terests of  our  Zion.  I  should  ill  deserve  the  honour- 
able name  my  brethren  have  given  me  if  I  were  not 
zealous  over  our  youth.     In  fearing  any  opposition 


226  HOPE    LESLIE. 

from  the  parties  in  question,  I  think,  my  worthy 
brother,  you  disquiet  yourself  in  vain.  It  appeareth 
from  Downing's  letter  that  there  hath  been  tender 
passages  between  your  son  and  his  daughter  Esther ; 
and  even  if  Hope  Leslie  hath  fed  her  fancies  with 
thoughts  of  Everell,  yet  I  think  she  would  be  for- 
ward to  advance  her  friend's  happiness ;  for,  not- 
withstanding she  doth  so  differ  from  her  in  her  gay 
carriage,  their  hearts  appear  to  be  knit  together." 

"  You  do  my  beloved  child  but  justice ;  what  is 
difficult  duty  to  others  hath  ever  seemed  impulse  in 
her ;  and  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  the  cove- 
nant of  works  was  to  her  a  hinderance  to  the  cove- 
nant of  grace ;  and  that,  perhaps,  she  would  hate  sin 
more  for  its  unlawfulness  if  she  did  not  hate  it  so 
much  for  its  ugliness." 

Governor  Winthrop  thought  his  friend  went  a  lit- 
tle too  far  in  magnifying  the  virtue  of  his  favourite. 
"  Pardon,"  he  said, "  the  wounds  inflicted  by  a  friend ; 
they  are  faithful.  I  have  thought  the  child  rests  too 
much  on  'performances  ;  and  you  must  allow,  broth- 
er, that  she  hath  not — I  speak  it  tenderly — that  pass- 
iveness  that,  next  to  godhness,  is  a  woman's  best 
virtue." 

"  I  should  scarcely  account,"  replied  Mr.  Fletch- 
er, "  a  property  of  soulless  matter  a  virtue."  This 
was  spoken  in  a  tone  of  impatience  that  indicated 
truly  that  the  speaker,  like  an  over-fond  parent, 
could  better  endure  any  reproach  cast  on  himself 
than  the  slightest  imputation  on  his  favourite.  Gov- 
ernor Winthrop  was  not  a  man  to  shrink  from  inflict- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  ^S7 

ing  what  he  deemed  a  salutary  pain  because  his  pa- 
tient recoiled  from  his  touch  j  he  therefore  proceeded 
in  his  admonition. 

"  Partiality  is  dangerous,  as  we  see  in  the  nota- 
ble history  of  David  and  Absalom,  and  elsewhere ; 
and  perhaps  it  was  your  too  great  indulgence  that 
imboldened  the  child  to  the  daring  deed  of  violating 
the  law  by  the  secret  release  of  the  condemned." 

"  That  violation  rests  upon  suspicion,  not  proof," 
said  Mr.  Fletcher,  hastily. 

"  And  why,"  replied  Governor  Winthrop,  smiling, 
"  is  it  permitted  to  rest  on  suspicion  1  from  respect 
to  our  much-suffering  Brother  Fletcher,  and  consid- 
eration of  the  youth  of  the  offender,  we  have  winked 
at  the  offence.  But  we  will  pass  that ;  I  would  be 
the  last  to  lift  the  veil  that  hath  fallen  over  it ;  I 
only  alluded  to  it  to  enforce  the  necessity  of  a  strict- 
er watch  over  this  lawless  girl.  Would  it  not  be 
wise  and  prudent  to  take  my  brother's  counsel,  and 
consign  her  to  some  one  who  should  add  to  affection 
the  authority  of  a  husband  ?" 

Governor  Winthrop  paused  for  a  reply,  but  re- 
ceiving none,  he  proceeded :  "  One  of  our  most 
promising  youth  hath  this  day  discoursed  to  \ne  of 
Hope  Leslie,  and  expressed  a  matrimonial  intent  to- 
wards her." 

"  And  who  is  this  ?"  demanded  Mr.  Fletcher. 

"  WilKam  Hubbard — the  youth  who  hath  come 
with  so  much  credit  from  our  prophets'  school  at 
Cambridge.  He  is  a  discreet  young  man,  steeped 
in  learning,  and  of  approved  orthodoxy." 


22§  HOPE    LESLtn. 

"  These  be  cardinal  points  with  us,"  replied  Mr. 
Fletcher,  calmly,  "  but  they  are  not  like  to  commend 
him  to  a  maiden  of  Hope  Leslie's  temper.  She  in- 
clineth  not  to  bookish  men,  and  is  apt  to  vent  her 
childish  gayety  upon  the  ungainly  ways  of  scholars." 

Thus  our  heroine,  by  her  peculiar  taste,  lost  at 
least  the  golden  opportunity  of  illustrating  herself 
by  a  union  with  the  future  historian  of  New-Eng- 
land. 

After  a  little  consideration  the  governor  resumed 
the  conversation.  "  It  is  difficult,"  he  said,  "  to  suit 
a  maiden  who  hath  more  whim  than  reason :  what 
think  you  of  Sir  Philip  Gardiner  1" 

"  Sir  Philip  Gardiner !  a  new-comer  of  to-day  ! 
and  old  enough  to  be  the  father  of  Hope  Leslie  !" 

"  The  fitter  guide  for  her  youth.  Besides,  broth- 
er, you  magnify  his  age  :  he  is  still  on  the  best  side 
of  forty.  He  is  a  man  of  good  family,  who,  after 
having  fought  on  the  side  where  his  birth  naturally 
cast  him,  hath  been  plucked,  as  a  brand  from  the 
burning,  by  the  preaching  and  exhortation  of  the 
godly  Mr.  Wilkins;  and  feeling,  as  he  declares,  a 
pious  horror  at  the  thought  of  imbruing  his  hands  any 
farther  in  blood,  he  hath  come  to  cast  his  lot  among 
us,  instead  of  joining  our  friends  in  England." 

"  Hath  he  credentials  to  verify  all  these  particu- 
lars ?" 

Governor  Winthrop  coloured  slightly  at  an  inter- 
rogatory that  implied  a  deficiency  of  wariness  on  his 
part,  and  replied,  "  That  he  thought  the  gentleman 
scarcely  needed  other  than  he  carried  in  his  language 


iiOPE    LESLIE.  229 

arid  deportment,  but  that  he  had  come  furnished  with 
a  letter  of  introduction  satisfactory  in  all  points." 

"  From  whom  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Fletcher. 

"  From  one  Jeremy  Austin,  who  expresseth  him- 
self as,  and  Sir  Philip  says  is,  a  warm  friend  to  us." 

"  Is  he  known  to  you  1" 

"  No ;  but  I  think  1  have  heard  him  mentioned  as 
a  well- wilier  to  our  colony." 

This  was  not  perfectly  satisfactory  to  Mr.  Fletch- 
er, but  he  forbore  to  press  the  point  farther,  and 
turned  his  attack  to  that  part  of  the  suggestion  that 
appeared  most  vulnerable.  "  Methinks,"  he  said, 
"  you  are  over-hasty  in  proposing  to  match  Hope 
Leslie  wuth  this  stranger." 

"  Nay,  I  meant  not  a  formal  proposition.  I  noted 
that  Sir  Philip  was  struck  with  Hope's  outward  gra- 
ces. He  is  an  uncommon  personable  man,  and  hath 
that  bearing  that  finds  favour  in  maidens'  eyes,  and 
the  thought  came  to  me  that  he  may  have  been  sent 
here,  in  good  time,  to  relieve  all  our  perplexities; 
and,  to  confess  the  truth,  brother,  if  I  may  use  the 
sporting  language  of  our  youth,  I  am  impatient  to 
put  jesses  on  this  wild  bird  of  yours  while  she  is  on 
our  perch.  But,  to  be  serious,  and  surely  the  sub- 
ject doth  enforce  us  to  it,  I  am  satisfied  that  you  will 
not  oppose  any  means  that  may  offer  to  secure  the 
lambs  of  our  flock  in  the  true  fold." 

"I  shall  oppose  nothing  that  will  promote  the 
spiritual  prosperity  of  those  dear  to  me  as  my  own 
soul.  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  my  son's  filial  obe- 
dience ;  he  hath  never  been  wanting ',  and,  though 

Vol.  L—U 


230  HOPE    LESLIE. 

both  he  and  I  have  fallen  under  censure,  I  see  not 
that  I  erred  in  sending  him  from  me,  since  I  but  com- 
plied with  the  last  request  of  his  sainted  mother,  and 
that  compliance  deprived  me  of  the  only  child  left 
of  my  little  flock.  I  speak  not  vauntingly ;  but  let 
not  those  who  have  remained  in  Egypt  condemn 
him  who  has  drank  of  the  bitterest  waters  of  the  wil- 
derness." Mr.  Fletcher,  finding  himself  again  yield- 
ing to  irrepressible  emotions,  rose  and  hastily  left  his 
jnore  equal-tempered  and  less  interested  friend. 

Thus  did  these  good  men,  not  content  with  their 
magnanimous  conflict  with  necessary  evils,  involve 
themselves  in  superfluous  trials.  Whatever  gratified 
the  natural  desires  of  the  heart  was  questionable,  and 
almost  everything  that  was  difficult  and  painful  as- 
sumed the  form  of  duty.  As  if  the  benevolent  Fa- 
ther of  all  had  stretched  over  our  heads  a  canopy  of 
clouds  instead  of  the  bright  firmament,  and  its  glori- 
ous host,  and  ever-changing  beauty,  and  had  spread 
under  our  feet  a  wilderness  of  bitter  herbs  instead 
of  every  tree  and  plant  yielding  its  good  fruit.  But 
"we  would  fix  our  eyes  on  the  bright  halo  that  encir* 
cled  the  Pilgrim's  head,  and  not  mark  the  dust  that 
sometimes  sullied  his  garments. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  231 


CHAPTER  XII. 

<'  Then  crush,  even  in  their  hour  of  birth, 
The  infant  buds  of  love, 
And  tread  his  glowing  fire  to  earth. 
Ere  'tis  dark  in  clouds  above." 

Halleck. 

The  observance  of  the  Sabbath  began  with  the 
Puritans,  as  it  still  does  with  a  great  portion  of  their 
descendants,  on  Saturday  night.  At  the  going  down 
of  the  sun  on  Saturday,  all  temporal  affairs  were 
suspended ;  and  so  zealously  did  our  fathers  main- 
tain the  letter  as  well  as  the  spirit  of  the  law,  that, 
according  to  a  vulgar  tradition  in  Connecticut,  no 
beer  was  brewed  in  the  latter  part  of  the  Aveek,  lest 
it  should  presume  to  work  on  Sunday. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  tendency  of  the  age 
is  to  laxity ;  and  so  rapidly  is  the  wholesome  strict- 
ness of  primitive  times  abating,  that,  should  some 
antiquary,  fifty  years  hence,  in  exploring  his  garret 
rubbish,  chance  to  cast  his  eye  on  our  humble  pages, 
he  may  be  surprised  to  learn  that  even  now  the  Sab- 
bath is  observed,  in  the  interior  of  New-England, 
with  an  almost  Judaical  strictness. 

On  Saturday  afternoon  an  uncommon  bustle  is  ap- 
parent. The  great  class  of  procrastinators  are  hur- 
rying to  and  fro  to  complete  the  lagging  business  of 
the  week.    The  good  mother^j  like  Burns's  matron, 


232  HOPE    LESLIE. 

are  plying  their  needles,  making  "  auld  claes  look 
amaist  as  weel's  the  new;"  while  the  domestics,  or 
help*  (we  prefer  the  national  descriptive  terra),  are 
wielding  with  might  and  main  their  brooms  and 
mops,  to  make  all  tidy  for  the  Sabbath. 

As  the  day  declines,  the  hum  of  labour  dies  away, 
and  after  the  sun  is  set,  perfect  stillness  reigns  in  ev- 
ery well-ordered  household,  and  not  a  footfall  is 
heard  in  the  village  street.  It  cannot  be  denied, 
that  even  the  most  spiritual,  missing  the  excitement 
of  their  ordinary  occupations,  anticipate  their  usual 
bedtime.  The  obvious  inference  from  this  fact  is 
skilfully  avoided  by  certain  ingenious  reasoners,  who 
allege  that  the  constitution  was  originally  so  orga- 
nized as  to  require  an  extra  quantity  of  sleep  on 
every  seventh  night.  We  recommend  it  to  the  cu- 
rious to  inquire  how  this  peculiarity  was  adjusted 
"when  the  first  day  of  the  \veek  was  changed  from 
Saturday  to  Sunday. 

The  Sabbath  morning  is  as  peaceful  as  the  first 
hallowed  day.  Not  a  human  sound  is  heard  without 
the  dwellings,  and,  but  for  the  lowing  of  the  herds, 
the  crowing  of  the  cocks,  and  the  gossiping  of  the 
birds,  animal  hfe  would  seem  to  be  extinct,  till,  at 
the  bidding  of  the  church-going  bell,  the  old  and 
young  issue  from  their  habitations,  and  with  solemn 
demeanour  bend  their  measured  steps  to  the  meetings 
house.  The  family  of  the  minister — the  squire — the 
doctor — the  merchants — the  modest  gentry  of  the 

♦  Mr.  Mathews  (nice  observer  as  he  is),  as  well  as  many  ofher 
foreigners,  mistakes  in  adding  an  s  to  this  word  for  the  plural. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  233 

village,  and  the  inechanic  and  labourer,  all  arrayed 
in  their  best,  all  meeting  on  even  ground,  and  all 
with  that  consciousness  of  independence  and  equali- 
ty which  breaks  down  the  pride  of  the  rich,  and  res- 
cues the  poor  from  servility,  envy,  and  discontent. 
If  a  morning  salutation  is  reciprocated,  it  is  in  a  sup- 
pressed voice ;  and  if,  perchance.  Nature,  in  some 
reckless  urchin,  burst  forth  in  laughter,  "  My  dear, 
you  forget  it's  Sunday !"  is  the  ever  ready  reproof. 

Though  every  face  w^ars  a  solemn  aspect,  yet  we 
once  chanced  to  see  even  a  deacon's  muscles  relaxed 
by  the  w^it  of  a  neighbour,  and  heard  him  allege,  in 
a  half  deprecating,  half  laughing  voiccj  "  The  squire 
is  so  droll  that  a  body  must  laugh,  though  it  be  Sab- 
bath-day." 

The  farmer's  ample  wagon  and  the  little  one-horse 
vehicle  bring  in  all  w'ho  reside  at  an  inconvenient 
walking  distance ;  that  is  to  say,  in  our  riding  com- 
munity, half  a  mile  from  the  church.  It  is  a  pleas- 
ing sight  to  those  who  love  to  note  the  happy  pecu- 
liarities of  their  own  land,  to  see  the  farmer's  daugh- 
ters, blooming,  intelligent,  and  w^ell  bred,  pouring  out 
of  these  homely  coaches  wath  their  nice  w^hite  gowns, 
prunello  shoes,  Leghorn  hats,  fans,  and  parasols, 
and  the  spruce  young  men  with  their  plaited  ruffles, 
blue  coats,  and  yellow^  buttons.  The  wliole  commu- 
nity meet  as  one  religious  family,  to  offer  their  devo- 
tions at  the  common  altar.  If  there  is  an  outlaw 
from  the  society — a  luckless  wight,  whose  vagrant 
taste  has  never  been  subdued,  he  may  be  seen  steal- 
ing along  the  margin  of  some  little  brook,  far  away 
U2 


234  HOPE    LESLIE. 

from  the  condemning  observation  and  troublesome 
admonitions  of  his  fellows. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  day,  or  (to  borrow  a 
phrase  descriptive  of  his  feeling  who  first  used  it) 
"  when  the  Sabbath  begins  to  abate,''  the  children 
cluster  about  the  windows.  Their  eyes  wander  from 
their  catechisms  to  the  western  sky;  and  though  it 
seems  to  them  as  if  the  sun  would  never  disappear, 
his  broad  disk  does  slowly  sink  behind  the  mountain ; 
and  while  his  last  ray  still  lingers  on  the  eastern 
summit,  merry  voices  break  forth,  and  the  ground 
resounds  with  bounding  footsteps.  The  village  belle 
arrays  herself  for  her  twilight  walk ;  the  boys  gath- 
er on  "  the  green  ;"  the  lads  and  girls  throng  to  the 
"  singingrschool ;"  while  some  coy  maiden  lingers 
at  home, awaiting  her  expected  suiter;  and  all  enter 
upon  the  pleasures  of  the  evening  with  as  keen  a 
relish  as  if  the  day  had  been  a  preparatory  penance. 

We  have  passed  over  eight  days,  which  glided 
away  without  supplying  any  events  to  the  historian 
of  our  heroine's  life,  though  even  then  the  thread 
was  spinning  that  was  to  form  the  woof  of  her  des- 
tiny. 

Intent  on  verifying  the  prediction  she  had  made 
to  Esther,  that  Everell  would  soon  declare  himself 
her  lover,  she  promoted  the  intercourse  of  the  par- 
ties in  every  way  she  could  without  making  her  mo- 
tive apparent.  While  she  treated  Everell  with  frank 
sisterly  affection,  and  was  always  easy  and  animated 
in  his  society,  which  she  enjoyed  above  all  other 
pleasures,  she  sedulously  sought  to  bring  Esther's 


HOPE    LESLIE.  235 

moral  and  mental  graces  forth  to  the  light.  In  their 
occasional  walks  she  took  good  care  that  Everell 
should  be  the  companion  of  her  friend,  while  she 
permitted  Sir  Philip  Gardiner  to  attend  her.  He 
was  a  man  of  the  world,  practised  in  all  the  arts  of 
society ;  and  though  he  sometimes  offended  her  by 
the  excess  of  his  flattering  gallantries,  yet  he  often 
deeply  interested  her  with  his  lively  descriptions  of 
countries  and  manners  unknown  to  her. 

It  was  just  at  twilight  on  Saturday  evening  when 
the  elder  JSIr.  Fletcher  came  into  Madam  Winthrop's 
parlour,  found  his  son  sitting  there  alone,  and  inter- 
rupted a  very  delightful  meditation  on  the  eloquence 
of  Hope  Leslie,  who  had  just  been  with  him,  des- 
canting on  the  virtues  of  her  friend  Esther.  The 
charms  of  the  fair  speaker  had,  we  believe,  a  far 
larger  share  of  his  thoughts  than  the  subject  of  her 
harangue. 

"  We  have  a  lecture  extraordinary  to-night,"  said 
Mr.  Fletcher ;  "  our  rulers,  some  time  since,  issued 
an  order,  limiting  our  regular  religious  meetings  to 
one  during  the  week.     Shall  you  go,  my  son  ?" 

"  Sir !  go  to  the  lecture  ?"  replied  Everell,  as  it 
just  waking  from  a  dream;  and  then  added,  for  then 
he  caught  a  ghmpse  of  Hope  through  the  door  with 
her  hat  and  mantle,  "  oh,  yes ;  certainly,  sir,  I  shall 
go  to  the  lecture." 

He  snatched  his  hat,  and  would  have  joined  Miss 
Leslie ;  but  she  saw  his  intention,  and  turning  to  him 
as  she  passed  the  threshold  of  the  door,  she  said, 
"  You  need  not  go  with  me,  Everell  3  I  have  to  call 
for  aunt  Grafton,  at  Mrs.  Cotton's." 


236  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  May  I  not  call  with  you  ?" 

"  No  ;  I  had  rather  you  would  not,"  she  said,  de- 
cidedly, and  hurried  away  without  any  explanation 
of  her  preference. 

"  What  can  have  disturbed  Hope  ?"  asked  Mr. 
Fletcher,  for  both  he  and  his  son  had  observed  that 
her  cheek  was  flushed  and  her  eye  tearful. 

"  I  cannot  imagine,"  replied  Everell  -,  "  she  left 
me,  not  half  an  hour  since,  all  smiles  and  gayety." 

"  It  is  but  the  April-temper  of  youth,"  said  the  fa- 
ther. "  Hope  is  of  a  feeling  make :  she  often  re- 
minds me  of  the  Delta  lands,  where  the  fruits  spring 
forth  before  the  waters  have  retired.  Smiles  are 
playing  on  her  lips  before  the  tear  is  dry  on  her 
cheek.  But  this  sensitiveness  should  be  checked : 
the  dear  child's  feelings  have  too  long  been  indul- 
ged." 

"  And  as  long  as  they  are  all  innocent,  sir,  why 
should  they  not  be  indulged  ?" 

"  Because,  my  son,  she  must  be  hardened  for  the 
cross-accidents  and  unkind  events,  or,  rather,  I  should 
say,  the  wholesome  chastisements  of  life.  She  can- 
not— we  can  none  of  us — expect  indulgence  from  the 
events  of  life."  Mr.  Fletcher  paused  for  a  moment, 
looked  around,  then  shut  the  door  and  returned  to 
his  son.  "  Everell,"  he  said,  "  you  have  ever  been 
dutiful  to  me." 

"  And  ever  shall  be,  my  dear  father,"  replied  Ev- 
erell, with  frank  confidence,  little  thinking  how  soon 
the  virtue  might  become  difficult. 

"  Trust  not,  my  son,  to  thine  own  strength  -,  it  may 


HOPE    LESLIE.  237 

soon  be  put  to  a  test  that  will  make  thee  feel  it  to  be 
but  weakness.  Everell,  thou  seest  that  Hope  loves 
thee  even  as  she  loved  thee  in  thy  childhood.  Let 
her  affection  remain  of  this  temper,  I  charge  thee,  as 
thou  respectest  thy  father's  and  thine  own  honour. 
And,  Everell,  it  were  well  if  you  fixed  your  eye  on — " 

"  Stop,  sir  !  stop,  I  beseech  you,  and  tell  me — not 
because  I  have  any  thoughts — any  intentions,  I 
mean — any  formed  purpose,  I  would  say — but  tell 
me,  I  entreat  you,  why  this  prohibition  ?" 

Everell  spoke  with  such  earnestness  and  ingenu- 
ousness that  his  father  could  not  refuse  to  answer 
him  ',  but  his  reasons  seemed,  even  to  himself,  to  lose 
half  their  force  as  they  emerged  from  their  shroud  of 
mystery.  He  acknowledged,  in  the  first  place,  what 
his  most  cherished  wishes  had  been  in  relation  to 
Hope  and  Everell.  He  then  communicated  the  in- 
timations that  had  been  thrown  out,  that  his  views 
for  his  son  w^re  mercenary. 

Everell  laughed  at  the  idea.  "  No  one,"  he  said, 
"  can  so  well  afford  such  an  imputation  as  you,  sir, 
whose  whole  life  has  been  a  practical  refutation  of 
it ;  and,  for  my  ow^n  part,  I  am  satisfied  W'ith  the 
consciousness  that  I  would  not  marry  any  woman 
with  a  fortune  whom  I  would  not  marry  if  the  case 
^vere  reversed,  or  even  if  we  were  both  penniless." 

"  I  believe  this  is  not  an  empty  boast,  my  son ; 
but  we  have  set  ourselves  up  as  a  mark  to  the  world, 
and,  as  Brother  Winthrop  has  said,  and  repeated  to 
me,  we  cannot  be  too  sohcitous  to  avoid  all  appear- 
ance of  evil     There  are  covetous  souls,  who,  on  the 


238  HOPE    LESLIE. 

slightest  ground,  would  suspect  us  of  pursuing  our 
own  worldly  by-ends." 

"  And  so,  sir,  to  win  the  approbation,  or,  rather, 
the  good  word  of  these  covetous  souls,  we  are  to  de- 
grade ourselves  to  their  level,  and  act  as  if  we  were 
capable  of  their  mean  passions." 

"  Everell,  my  son,  you  speak  presumptuously ;  we 
are  capable  of  all  evil ;  but  we  will  waive  that  ques- 
tion at  present.  Our  individual  wishes  must  be  sur- 
rendered to  the  public  good.  We  have  laid  the 
foundation  of  an  edifice,  and  our  children  must  be 
so  coupled  together  as  to  secure  its  progress  and  sta- 
bility when  the  present  builders  are  laid  low." 

"  And  so,  my  dear  father,  a  precious  gem  is  to  be 
mortared  in  like  a  common  brick,  wherever  may  best 
suit  the  purposes  and  views  of  the  builders.  You 
are  displeased,  sir.  Perhaps  I  spoke  somewhat  has- 
tily. But,  once  for  all,  I  entreat  you  not  to  dispose 
of  us  as  if  we  were  mere  machines :  we  owe  you  our 
love  and  reverence." 

"  And  obedience,  Everell." 
"  Yes,  sir,  as  far  as  can  be  manifested  by  not  do- 
ing what  you  command  us  not  to  do." 

"  Have  I,  then,  strained  parental  authority  so  far, 
that  you  think  it  necessary  thus  to  qualify  your 
duty  ?" 

"  No,  indeed,  my  dear  father ;  and  it  is  because 
your  authority  has  ever  been  too  gentle  to  be  felt, 
that  I  wince  at  the  galling  of  a  new  yoke.  You  will 
admit  that  my  submission  has  not  been  less  perfect 
for  being  voluntary.  Trust  me,  then,  for  the  future  ^ 
and  I  promise—" 


HOPE    LESLIE.  239 

Everell  was,  perhaps,  saved  from  rashly  commit- 
ting himself  by  the  entrance  of  Madam  Winthrop, 
■who  inquired  if  the  gentlemen  were  ready  to  attend 
her  to  the  lecture. 

"  Come,  Mr.  Everell,"  she  said,  "  here  is  Esther 
to  show  you  the  way,  than  whom  there  can  be  no 
safer  guide." 

Miss  Downing  stood  beside  her  aunt,  but  she 
shrunk  back  at  Everell's  approach,  hurt  at  what 
seemed  to  her  a  solicitation  for  his  attention.  He 
perceived  her  instinctive  movement,  but,  without  ap- 
pearing to  notice  it,  he  offered  his  arm  to  Madam 
Winthrop,  saying,  "  As  there  is  no  skill  in  guiding 
one  quite  capable  of  self- guidance,  I  will  not  inflict 
myself  on  Miss  Downing,  if  you  will  allow  me  the 
honour  of  attending  you." 

Madam  Winthrop  submitted  with  the  best  grace 
to  this  cross  purpose.  The  elder  Fletcher  offered 
his  arm  to  Miss  Downing,  and  endeavoured  to  draw 
her  into  conversation ;  but  she  was  timid,  downcast, 
and  reserved ;  and  mentally  comparing  her  with 
Hope  Leslie,  he  felt  how  improbable  it  was  that 
Everell  would  ever  prefer  her.  The  old,  even  when 
grave  and  rigid,  are  said  to  affect  the^oung  and  gay ; 
on  the  same  principle,  perhaps,  that  a  dim  eye  de- 
lights in  bright  colours. 

"  Is  that  Gorton's  company  ?"  asked  Everell,  point- 
ing towards  several  prisoners,  who,  in  the  custody  of 
a  file  of  soldiers,  appeared  to  be  going  towards  the 
sanctuary. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Madam  Winthrop  j  "  the  govern- 


240  HOPE    LESllE. 

or  and  our  ruling  elders  have  determined  that,  as 
they  are  to  be  tried  next  week,  they  shall  have  the 
benefit  of  all  our  public  teaching  in  the  mean  time." 

"  I  should  fear  they  would  deem  this  punishment 
before  trial,"  said  Everell. 

"  They  did  reluct  mightily  at  first ;  but  on  bemg 
promised  that,  if  they  had  occasion  to  speak,  after 
sermon  they  should  be  permitted,  provided  they  only 
spoke  the  words  of  sobriety  and  truth,  they  consent- 
ed to  come  forth." 

This  Gorton,  whom  Hubbard  calls  "  a  prodigious 
minister  of  exorbitant  novelties,"  had  been  brought, 
with  his  adherents,  from  Rhode  Island,  by  force  of 
arms,  to  be  tried  for  certain  civil  and  ecclesiastical 
offences,  for  which,  according  to  the  most  learned 
antiquary  of  our  New  World  (Mr.  Savage),  they 
were  not  amenable  to  the  magistracy  of  Massachu- 
setts. 

The  prisoners  were  ushered  into  the  church,  and 
placed  before  the  ruling  elders.  The  governor  then 
entered,  unattended  by  his  halberd-bearers  (a  cere- 
mony dispensed  with  except  on  Sunday),  and,  fol- 
lowed by  his  family,  walked  slowly  to  his  pew, 
where  Miss  Le^ie  was  already  seated  between  Mrs. 
Grafton  and  Sir  Philip  Gardiner.  She  rose,  and 
contrived  to  exchange  her  location  for  one  next  Miss 
Downing.  "  Look,  Esther,"  she  said,  in  a  whisper, 
to  her  friend,  "  at  that  lad  who  stands  in  the  corner 
of  the  gallery,  just  beside  the  lamp." 

"  I  see  him ;  but  what  of  him  ?" 

"  Why,  just  observe  how^  he  gazes  at  me :  his  eye 


HOPE    LESLIE.  S4l 

is  like  a  burning-glass — it  really  scorches  me.  I 
wish  the  service  were  over.  Do  you  think  it  will 
be  long  ?" 

'•  It  may  be  long,  but  I  trust  not  tedious,"  replied 
Esther,  with  a  gravity  which  was  the  harshest  rebuke 
she  could  ever  command. 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  both !"  said  Hope,  in  a  despairing 
tone  ;  "  for  there  is  Mr.  Wheeler  in  the  pulpit,  and 
he  always  talks  of  eternity  till  he  forgets  time." 

"  My  dear  Hope  !"  said  Esther,  in  a  voice  of  min- 
gled surprise  and  reproof. 

The  service  presently  began,  and  Hope  endeavour- 
ed dutifully  to  assume  a  decorous  demeanour,  and 
join  Esther  in  singing  the  psalm  ;  but  her  mind  was 
soon  abstracted,  and  her  voice  died  away. 

The  preacher  had  not  proceeded  far  in  his  dis- 
course before  all  her  patience  was  exhausted.  Even 
those  who  are  the  most  strenuous  advocates  for  the 
passive  duties  of  the  sanctuary  might  have  bestowed 
their  pity  on  our  heroine,  who  had  really  serious 
cause  for  her  feverish  impatience  ;  obliged  to  sit, 
while  a  young  man,  accounted  a  "  universal  schol- 
ar," seemed  determined,  like  many  unfledged  preach- 
ers, to  tell  all  he  knew  in  that  one  discourse,  which 
w^as  then  called  a  prophesying — an  extempore  effu- 
sion. He  was  bent,  not  only  on  making  "  root  and 
branch  work"  of  poor  Gorton's  heresies,  but  on  eradi- 
cating every  tare  from  the  spiritual  field.  To  Hope 
he  appeared  to  maintain  one  even  pace  straight  for- 
ward, like  the  mortal  in  the  fairy  tale,  sentenced  to 
an  eternal  walk  over  a  boundless  plain. 

Vol.  I.-~X 


242  HOPE    LESLIfi. 

"  Do,  Esther,  look  at  the  candles,"  she  whispered ; 
"  don't  you  think  it  must  be  nine  o'clock  ?" 

"  Oh,  hush  !  no,  not  yet  eight." 

Hope  sighed  audibly,  and  once  more  resumed  a 
listeninof  attitude.  All  human  labours  have  their 
end,  and  therefore  had  the  preacher's.  But,  alas 
for  our  heroine  !  when  he  had  finished,  Gorton — 
whose  face  for  the  last  hour  had  expressed  that  he 
felt  much  like  a  criminal  condemned  to  be  scourged 
before  he  is  hung — Gorton  rose,  and,  smarting  under 
a  sense  of  wrongs,  repeated  all  the  points  of  the 
discourse,  and  made  points  where  there  were  none ; 
refuted  and  attacked,  and  proved  (to  his  own  satis- 
faction) "  that  all  ordinances,  ministers,  sacraments, 
&c.,  were  but  men's  invention — silver  shrines  of 
Diana." 

While  this  self-styled  "  professor  of  mysteries" 
spoke,  Hope  was  so  much  interested  in  his  genuine 
enthusiasm  and  mysticism  (for  he  was  the  Sweden- 
borg  of  his  day)  that  she  forgot  her  own  secret 
subject  of  anxiety;  but  when  he  had  finished,  and 
half  a  dozen  of  the  ruling  elders  rose  at  the  same 
moment  to  prove  the  weapons  of  orthodoxy  upon 
the  arch  heretic,  she  whispered  to  Esther,  "I  can 
never  bear  this ;  I  must  make  an  apology  to  Madam 
Winthrop,  and  go  home  !" 

"  Stay,"  said  Esther ;  "  do  you  not  see  Mr.  Cotton 
is  getting  up  ?" 

Mr.  Cotton,  the  regular  pastor,  rose  to  remind  his 
brethren  of  the  decree,  "  that  private  members  should 
be  very  sparing  in  their  questions  and  observations 


HOPE    LESLIE.  243 

after  public  sermons,"  and  to  say  that  he  should 
postpone  any  farther  discussion  of  the  precious  points 
before  them,  as  it  was  near  nine  o'clock,  after  which 
it  was  not  suitable  for  any  Christian  family  to  be  un- 
necessarily abroad. 

Hope  now,  and  many  others,  instinctively  rose,  in 
anticipation  of  the  dismissing  benediction ;  but  Mr. 
Cotton  waved  his  hand  for  them  to  sit  down,  till  he 
could  communicate  to  the  congregation  the  decision 
to  which  the  ruling  elders  and  himself  had  come  on 
the  subject  of  the  last  Sabbath  sermon.  "  He  would 
not  repeat  what  he  had  before  said  upon  that  lust  of 
costly  apparel,  which  was  fast  gaining  ground,  and 
had  already,  as  was  well  known,  crept  into  godly 
families.  He  was  pleased  that  there  were  among 
them  gracious  women,  ready  to  turn  at  a  rebuke,  as 
was  manifested  in  many  veils  being  left  at  home, 
that  were  floating  over  the  congregation  like  so  many 
butterflies'  wings  in  the  morning.  Economy,  he  just- 
ly observed,  was,  as  well  as  simplicity,  a  Christian 
grace;  and,  therefore,  the  rulers  had  determined, 
that  those  persons  who  had  run  into  the  excess  of 
immoderate  veils  and  sleeves,  embroidered  caps,  and 
gold  and  silver  lace,  should  be  permitted  to  wear 
them  out,  but  new  ones  should  be  forfeited." 

This  sumptuary  regulation  announced,  the  meeting 
was  dismissed. 

Madam  Winthrop  whispered  to  Everell  that  she 
was  going,  with  his  father,  to  look  in  upon  a  sick 
neighbour,  and  would  thank  him  to  see  her  niece 
home.  Everell  stole  a  glance  at  Hope,  and  dutiful- 
ly offered  his  arm  to  Miss  Downing. 


244  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Hope,  intent  only  on  one  object,  was  hurrying  out 
of  the  pew,  intending,  in  the  jostling  of  the  crowd,  to 
escape  alone  ;  but  she  was  arrested  by  Madam  Win- 
throp's  saying,  *'  Miss  Leshe,  Sir  Philip  offers  you 
his  arm  ;"  and,  at  the  same  moment,  her  aunt  stoop- 
ed forward  to  beg  her  to  wait  a  moment,  till  she 
could  send  a  message  to  Deacon  Knowles's  wife,  that 
she  might  wear  her  new  gown  with  the  Turkish 
sleeves  the  next  day. 

"  Oh,  martyrdom  !"  thought  Hope,  with,  indeed, 
little  of  the  spirit  of  a  martyr.  She  dared  not  speak 
aloud,  but  she  continued  to  whisper  to  Mrs.  Graf- 
ton, "  For  pity's  sake,  do  leave  Mrs.  Knowles  to  take 
care  of  herself 3  I  am  tired  to  death  with  staying 
here." 

"  No  wonder,"  replied  her  aunt,  in  the  same  low 
tone  J  "  it  is  enough  to  tire  Job  himself;  but  just 
have  a  minute's  patience,  deary ;  it  is  but  doing  as 
a  body  would  be  done  by,  to  let  Mistress  Knowles 
know  she  may  come  out  in  her  new  gown  to-mor- 
row." 

"  Well,  just  as  you  please,  ma'am ;  but  I  will  go 
along  with  Sir  Philip,  and  you  can  follow  with  Mr. 
Cradock.  Mr.  Cradock,  you  will  wait  for  Mrs. 
Grafton?" 

"  Surely,  surely,"  replied  the  good  man,  eagerly ; 
"  there  is  nothing  you  could  ask  me,  Miss  Hope,  as 
you  well  know — be  it  ever  so  disagreeable — that  I 
would  not  do." 

"  Thank  you  for  nothing,  Mr.  Cradock,"  said  the 
testy  dame,  with  a  toss  of  her  head  3  "  you  are  over 


HOPE    LESLIE*  245 

civil,  I  think,  to-night.  It  is  very  well,  Miss  Hope, 
it  is  very  well ;  you  may  go  :  you  know  Cradock,  at 
best,  is  purblind  at  night ;  but  it  is  very  well ;  you 
can  go  ;  I  can  get  home  alone.  It  is  very  peculiar 
of  you,  Mr.  Cradock." 

Poor  Cradock  saw  he  had  offended,  but  how  he 
knew  not ;  and  he  looked  imploringly  to  Hope  to 
extricate  him;  but  she  was  too  anxious  about  her 
own  affairs  to  lend  her  usual  benevolent  care  to  his 
embarrassment. 

"  My  dear  aunt,"  said  she,  "  I  will  not  go  without 
you,  if  you  prefer  to  go  with  me ;  only  do  let  us  go." 

Mrs.  Grafton  now  acquiesced,  for  in  her  flurry  she 
had  lost  sight  of  the  messenger  whom  she  intended 
to  intrust  with  the  important  errand.  Sir  Philip  ar- 
ranged her  hood  and  cloak  with  a  grace  that  she  af- 
terward said  "  was  so  like  her  dear  deceased,"  and 
in  a  few  moments  the  party  was  in  the  street,  and 
really  moving  homeward. 

Mrs.  Grafton  prided  herself  on  a  slow,  measured 
step,  which  she  fancied  was  the  true  gait  of  dignity. 
Hope,  on  the  contrary,  always  moved  as  the  spirit 
moved  her ;  and  now  she  felt  an  irresistible  impulse 
to  hurry  forward. 

"  My  dear,"  said  her  aunt,  "  how  can  you  fly  so  ? 
I  am  sure,  if  they  in  England  were  to  see  you  walk, 
they  would  think  you  had  been  brought  up  here  to 
chase  the  deer  in  the  woods." 

Hope  dared  not  confess  her  anxiety  to  get  for- 
ward, and  she  could  no  longer  check  it. 

"  It  is  very  undignified,  and  very  unladylike,  and 
X2 


246  HOPE    LESLIE. 

very  unbecoming,  Hope ;  and  I  must  say  it  is  unto- 
ward and  unfroward  of  you  to  hurry  me  along  so. 
Don't  you  think  it  is  very  pecuUar  of  Hope,  Sir 
PhiHp  ?" 

The  knight  suspected  that  Miss  Leshe's  haste 
"was  merely  impatience  of  his  society,  and  he  could 
scarcely  curb  his  chagrin  while  he  said  that  "  the 
young  lady  undoubtedly  moved  with  uncommon  ce- 
lerity ;  indeed,  he  had  before  suspected  she  had  in- 
visible wings." 

"  Thank  you  for  your  hint,  Sir  Philip,"  exclaimed 
Hope.  "  It  is  a  night,"  she  continued,  looking  up 
at  the  bright  moon,  "  to  make  one  long  to  soar ;  so 
I  will  just  spread  my  wings,  and  leave  you  to  crawl 
on  the  earth."  She  withdrew  her  arm  from  Sir 
Philip's,  and,  tripping  on  before  them,  she  soon 
turned  a  corner  and  was  out  of  sight. 

We  must  leave  the  knight  biting  his  lips  with 
vexation,  and  feeling  much  like  a  merchant  obliged 
to  pay  a  heavy  duty  on  a  lost  article.  However,  to 
do  him  justice,  he  did  not  make  an  entire  loss  of  it, 
but  so  adroitly  improved  the  opportunity  to  win  the 
aunt's  favour,  that  she  afterward  said  to  Hope,  that, 
if  she  must  see  her  wedded  to  a  Puritan,  she  trusted 
it  would  be  Sir  Philip,  for  he  had  nothing  of  the 
Puritan  but  the  outside. 

Hope  had  not  proceeded  far  when  she  heard  a 
quick  step  behind  her,  and,  looking  back,  she  saw 
the  young  man  whose  gaze  had  disturbed  her  at 
the  lecture.  She  had  an  indefinite  womanly  feeling 
of  fear ;  but  a  second  thought  told  her  she  had  best 


HOPE    LESLIE.  247 

conceal  it,  and  she  slackened  her  pace.  Her  pur- 
suer approached  till  he  was  parallel  to  her,  and 
slackened  his  also.  He  looked  at  her  without  speak- 
ing ;  and,  as  Hope  glanced  her  eye  at  him,  she  was 
struck  with  an  expression  of  wretchedness  and  pas- 
sion that  seemed  unnatural  on  a  countenance  so 
young  and  beautiful.  "  Anything  is  better  than  this 
strange  silence,"  thought  Hope ;  so  she  stopped, 
looked  the  stranger  full  in  the  face,  and  said,  inqui- 
ringly, "  You  have,  perhaps,  lost  your  way  V 

"  Lost  my  way  1"  replied  the  youth,  in  a  half  ar- 
ticulate voice :  "  yes,  lady,  I  have  lost  my  way." 

The  melancholy  tone  and  mysterious  look  of  the 
stranger  led  Hope  to  suspect  that  he  meant  to  con- 
vey more  than  the  natural  import  of  his  words ;  but, 
without  seeming  to  understand  more,  she  said,  "  I 
perceive,  by  your  foreign  accent,  that  you  are  a 
stranger  here.  If  you  will  tell  me  where  you  wish 
to  go,  I  will  direct  you." 

"  And  who  will  guide  you,  lady  1"  responded  the 
stranger,  in  a  thrilling  tone.  *'  The  lost  may  warn, 
but  cannot  guide." 

"I  need  no  guidance,"  said  Hope,  hastily,  still 
persisting  in  understanding  him  literally  :  "  I  am  fa- 
miliar with  the  way ;  and,  if  I  cannot  be  of  service 
to  you,  must  bid  you  good-night." 

"  Stop  one  moment !"  exclaimed  the  stranger,  lay- 
ing his  hand  on  Hope's  arm  with  an  imploring  look : 
"  you  look  so  good — so  kind — )^ou  may  be  of  ser- 
vice to  me;"  and  then  bursting  into  a  passionate 
flood  of  tears,  he  added,  "  Oh !  no,  no,  there  is  no 
help  for  me  I" 


248  HOPE   LESLIE. 

Hope  now  lost  all  thought  for  herself  in  concern 
for  the  unhappy  being  before  her.  "  "Who  or  what 
are  you  V  she  asked. 

"  I !  what  am  1 1"  he  replied,  in  a  bitter  tone ; 
"  Sir  Philip  Gardiner's  slave,  or  servant,  or  page,  or — 
whatever  he  is  pleased  to  call  me.  Nay,  lady,  look 
not  so  piteously  on  me  !  I  love  my  master — at  least 
I  did  love  him ;  but  I  think  innocence  is  the  breath 
of  love  !  Heaven's  mercy,  lady  !  you  will  make  me 
weep  again  if  you  look  at  me  thus." 

"Nay,  do  not  weep,  but  tell  me,"  said  Hope, 
"  what  I  can  do  for  you ;  I  cannot  remain  here  lon- 
ger." 

"  Oh  !  you  can  do  nothing  for  me — no  one  can  do 
anything  for  me.     But,  lady — take  care  for  thyself." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  demanded  Hope,  in  a  tone 
of  mingled  alarm  and  impatience ;  "  do  you  mean 
anything  ?" 

The  boy  looked  apprehensively  about  him,  and, 
approaching  his  lips  close  to  Hope's  ear,  he  said  in 
a  whisper,  "  Promise  me  you  will  not  love  my  mas- 
ter. Do  not  believe  him,  though  he  pledge  the 
w^ord  of  a  true  knight  always  to  love  you ;  though 
he  swear  it  on  the  holy  crucifix,  do  not  believe  it !" 

Hope  now  began  to  think  that  the  youth's  senses 
were  impaired  j  and,  more  impatient  than  ever  to 
escape  from  him,  she  said,  "  Oh,  I  can  promise  all 
that,  and  as  much  more  in  the  same  way  as  you  will 
ask  of  me.  But  leave  me  now,  and  come  to  me 
again  when  you  want  a  much  more  difficult  ser- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  249 

"  I  never  shall  want  anything  else,  lady,"  he  re^ 
plied,  shaking  his  head  mournfully ;  "  I  want  nothing 
else  but  that  you  would  pity  me !  You  may — -for 
angels  pity,  and  I  am  sure  you  look  hke  one.  Pity 
me !  never  speak  of  me,  and  forget  me."  He  drop- 
ped on  his  knee,  pressed  her  hand  to  his  hps,  rose 
to  his  feet,  and  left  her  so  hastily  that  she  was  scarce^ 
ly  conscious  of  his  departure  till  he  was  beyond  her 
sight. 

Whatever  matter  for  future  reflection  this  inter- 
view might  have  afforded  her,  Hope  had  now  no 
time  to  dwell  on  it ;  and  she  hastened  forward,  and 
surmounting  a  fence  at  the  southeastern  extremity  of 
the  burial-ground,  entered  the  enclosure  now  the 
churchyard  of  the  stone  chapel.  The  moon  was  high 
in  the  heavens ;  masses  of  black  clouds  were  driven 
by  a  spring  gale  over  her  bright  disk,  producing 
startling  changes,  from  light  to  darkness,  and  from 
darkness  to  that  gleamy,  indefinite,  illusive  bright- 
ness, which  gives  to  moonlight  its  dominion  over  the 
imagination. 

At  another  time  Hope  Leslie  would  have  shrunk 
from  going  alone,  so  late  at  night,  to  this  region  of 
silence  and  sad  thoughts,  and  her  fancy  might  have 
imbodied  the  shadows  that  flitted  over  the  little 
mounds  of  earth ;  but  she  was  now  so  engrossed  by 
one  absorbing,  anxious  expectation,  that  she  scarce- 
ly thought  of  the  place  where  it  was  to  be  attained, 
and  she  pressed  on  as  if  she  were  passing  over  com- 
mon clods.  Once,  indeed,  she  paused,  as  the  moon 
shot  forth  a  bright  ray,  stooped  down  before  a  little 


250  HOPE    LESLIE. 

hillock,  pressed  her  brow  to  the  green  turf,  and  then 
raising  her  eyes  to  Heaven,  and  clasping  her  hands, 
she  exclaimed,  "  0,  my  mother !  if  ever  thy  pres- 
ence is  permitted  to  me,  be  with  me  now !"  After 
this  solemn  adjuration  she  again  rose  to  her  feet,  and 
looked  anxiously  before  her  for  some  expected  ob- 
ject. "  But  I  cannot  know,"  she  said,  "  till  I  have 
passed  the  thicket  of  evergreens ;  that  was  the  ap- 
pointed spot." 

She  passed  the  thicket,  and  at  that  moment  the 
intensity  of  her  feelings  spread  a  mist  before  her 
eyes.  She  faltered,  and  leaned  on  one  of  the  grave- 
stones for  support :  and  there  we  must  leave  her  for 
the  present,  to  the  secrecy  she  sought. 


Hope  Leslie.  251 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

**  There's  nothing  I  have  done  yet  o'  my  conscience, 
Deserves  a  corner :  would  all  other  women 
Could  speak  this  with  as  free  a  soul  as  I  do." 

Henry  VIII. 

While  Hope  Leslie  was  deeply  engaged  in  the 
object  of  her  secret  expedition,  Governor  Winthrop's 
household  was  thrown  into  alarm  at  her  absence. 

Jennet  was  the  only  member  of  the  family  who 
did  not  admit  that  there  was  real  cause  of  uneasi- 
ness. "  Miss  Hope,"  she  said,  "  was  always  like  a 
crazed  body  of  moonlight  nights;  there  was  never 
any  keeping  her  within  the  four  walls  of  a  house." 

But  a  moonlight  night  it  soon  ceased  to  be.  The 
clouds  that  had  been  scudding  over  the  heavens 
gathered  in  dark  and  terrific  masses.  A  spring  storm 
ensued  :  a  storm  to  which  winter  and  summer  con- 
tribute all  their  elemental  power — rain,  lightning, 
wind,  and  hail. 

Governor  Winthrop  naturally  concluded  (for  all 
persons  not  deeply  interested  are  apt  to  be  rational) 
that  Miss  Leslie  had  taken  refuge  under  some  safe 
covert,  and  he  summoned  his  family  to  their  evening 
devotions.  Both  the  Fletchers  excused  themselves, 
and  braved  the  storm  in  quest  of  their  lost  treasure ; 
and  even  old  Cradock,  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Grafton's  re- 
peated suggestions  that  he  was  a  very  useless  person 


255^  HOPE    LESLllJ. 

for  such  an  enterprise,  sallied  forth  ;  but  all  returned 
in  the  space  of  an  hour  to  bring  their  various  reports 
of  fruitless  inquiry  and  search.     Everell  remained 
but  long  enough  to  learn  that  there  were  no  tidings 
of  Hope,  and  was  again  rushing  out  of  the  house, 
when  he  met  the  object  of  his  apprehensions  at  the 
hall  door.     "Thank  Heaven  !"  he  exclaimed,  on 
seeing  her, "  you  are  safe.     Where  have  you  been  '? 
we  were  all  in  the  most  distressful  alarm  about  you." 
Hope  had,  by  this  time,  advanced  far  enough  into 
the  entry  for  Everell  to  perceive,  by  the  light  of  the 
lantern,  that  she  was  muffled  in  Sir  Philip  Gardi- 
ner's cloak.     His  face  had  kindled  with  joy  at  her 
appearance ;  all  light  now  vanished  from  it,  and  he 
stood  eyeing  Hope  with  glances  that  spoke,  though 
his  lips  refused  again  to  move ;  while  she,  without 
observing  or  suspecting  his  emotion,  did  not  reply  to 
him,  and  was  only  intent  on  disengaging  herself  from 
the  cloak.     "  Do  help  me,  Everell,"  she  said,  impa- 
tiently I  and  he  endeavoured  to  untie  the  string  that 
fastened  it;  but,  in  his  agitation,  instead  of  untying, 
he  doubled  the  knot. 

"  Oh,  worse  and  worse !"  she  exclaimed ;  and, 
without  any  farther  ceremony,  she  broke  the  string, 
and  running  back  to  the  door,  gave  the  cloak  to  Sir 
Philip,  who  stood  awaiting  it,  till  then  unperceived 
by  Everell,  in  the  shadows  of  the  portico. 

Everell  again  looked  at  Miss  Leslie,  in  the  natu- 
ral expectation  of  some  explanation ;  but  she  appear- 
ed only  concerned  to  escape  to  her  apartment  with- 
out any  inquiries  from  the  family.     Her  face  was 


FIOPE    LESLIE.  253 

extremely  pale;  and  her  voice,  still  affected  by  recent 
agitation,  trembled  as  she  said  to  Everell,  "  Be  kind 
enough  to  tell  your  father  and  all  of  them  that  I 
have  come  in  drenched  with  the  rain,  and  have  gone 
to  my  own  room ;  that  I  am  wearied,  and  shall  throw 
off  my  wet  garments,  and  get  to  bed  as  quick  as  pos- 
sible ;"  and  then  adding  a  "  good-night,  Everell," 
and  without  aw^aiting  any  answer,  she  was  spring- 
ing up  the  stairs,  when  the  parlour  door  was  thrown 
open,  and  half  a  dozen  voices  exclaimed,  in  the  same 
breath,  "  Oh,  Hope  !"  "  Hope  Leslie  !"  "  Miss  Hope 
Leslie  !  is  it  you  1" 

"  Come  back,  my  child,  and  tell  me  where  you 
have  been,"  said  Mr.  Fletcher. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Leslie,"  said  Governor  Winthrop,  but 
in  a  tone  of  kindness  rather  than  authority,  "  render 
an  account  of  thyself  to  thy  rulers." 

"Yes,  come  along,  Hope,"  said  Mrs.  Grafton, 
"  and  make  due  apologies  to  Madam  Winthrop.  A 
pretty  hubbub  you  have  put  her  house  in,  to  be  sure ; 
though  I  make  no  doubt  you  can  show  good  reason 
for  it,  and  also  for  leaving  Sir  Philip  and  me  in  that 
rantipole  way,  which  I  must  say  was  peculiar." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,"  said  Hope  to  Esther,  w^ho 
had  joined  her,  "  do  go  in  and  make  an  apology  for 
me.  Say  I  am  w^et  and  tired — say  anything  you 
please,  I  care  not  what — will  you  1  that's  a  good 
girl." 

"No,  Hope,  come  in  yourself;  aunt  Winthrop 
looked  a  little  displeased ;  you  had  best  come  j  I 
know  she  will  expect  it." 

Vol.  L— Y 


254  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Thus  beset,  Hope  dared  not  any  longer  hesitate, 
and  with  that  feeUng,  half  resolution  and  half  impa- 
tience to  have  a  disagreeable  thing  over,  which  often 
impelled  her,  she  descended  the  stairs  as  hastily  as 
she  had  ascended  them,  and  was  in  the  parlour  con- 
fronting all  the  inquirers  before  she  had  devised  any 
mode  of  relieving  herself  from  the  disagreeable  pre- 
dicament of  not  being  able  to  satisfy  their  curiosity. 

"Verily,  verily,"  exclaimed  Cradock,  who  was 
the  only  one  of  the  group,  not  even  excepting  Ever- 
ell,  whose  sympathy  mastered  his  curiosity,  "  verily, 
the  maiden  hath  been  in  peril ;  she  is  as  white  as  a 
snow-wreath,  and  as  wet  as  a  drowned  kitten." 

"Yes,  Master  Cradock,  quite  as  wet,"  replied 
Hope,  rallying  her  spirits, "  and  with  almost  as  little 
discretion  left,  or  I  should  not  have  entered  the  par- 
lour in  this  dripping  condition.  Madam  Winthrop, 
I  beg  you  wall  have  the  goodness  to  pardon  me  for 
the  trouble  I  have  occasioned." 

"  Certainly,  my  dear,  as  I  doubt  not  you  will  make 
it  plain  to  us  that  you  had  sufficient  reason  for  what 
appears  so  extraordinary  as  a  young  woman  wan- 
dering off  by  herself  after  nine  o'clock  on  Saturday 
night." 

Our  heroine  had  never  had  the  slightest  experi- 
ence in  the  nice  art  that  contrives  to  give  such  a  con- 
venient indistinctness  to  the  boundary  line  between 
truth  and  falsehood.  After  a  moment's  reflection, 
her  course  seemed  plain  to  her.  To  divulge  the  real 
motive  of  her  untimely  walk  was  impossible ;  to  in- 
vent a  false  excuse,  to  her,  equally  impossible.    She 


HOPE    LESLIE.  255 

turned  to  Governor  Winthrop,  and  said  with  a  smile 
that  Everell,  at  least,  thought  might  have  softened 
the  elder  Brutus,  "  I  surrender  myself  to  the  laws  of 
the  land,  having  no  hope  but  from  the  mercy  of  my 
kind  ruler.  I  have  offended,  I  know ;  but  I  should 
commit  a  worse  offence — an  offence  against  my  own 
conscience  and  heart,  if  I  explained  the  cause  of  my 
absence." 

Governor  Winthrop  was  not  accustomed  to  have 
his  inquisitorial  rights  resisted  by  those  of  his  own 
household,  and  he  was  certainly  more  struck  than 
pleased  by  Hope's  moral  courage. 

Mrs.  Grafton  half  muttered,  half  spoke,  what  she 
meant  to  be  an  apology  for  her  favourite.  "  It  was 
not  everybody,"  she  said,  "  that  thought  as  the  gov- 
ernor did  about  Saturday  night." 

"True,  true,"  said  Cradock,  eagerly,  "it  is  a 
doubtful  point  with  divines  and  gifted  men." 

"  Master  Cradock,"  said  the  governor,  "  thou  art 
too  apt  to  measure  thy  orthodoxy  by  thy  charity. 
Saturday  night  is  allowed  to  be,  and  manifestly  is, 
holy  time ;  and  therefore  to  be  applied,  exclusively, 
to  acts  of  mercy  and  devotion."  Then,  turning  to 
the  impatient  culprit,  he  added,  "  I  am  bound  to  say 
to  thee,  Hope  Leslie,  that  thou  dost  take  liberties  un- 
suitable to  thy  youth,  and  in  violation  of  that  defer- 
ence due  to  the  rule  and  observances  of  my  house- 
hold, and  discreditable  to  him  who  hath  been  in- 
trusted with  thy  nurture  and  admonition." 

Hope  received  the  first  part  of  this  reproof  with 
her  eyes  riveted  to  the  floor,  and  with  a  passiveness 


256  HOPE    LESLIE. 

that  had  the  semblance  of  penitence ;  but  at  the  im- 
plied reproach  of  her  guardian,  for  whom  she  had 
an  affection  that  had  the  purity  of  filial  and  the  en- 
thusiasm of  voluntary  love,  she  raised  her  eyes  ;  their 
mild  lustre,  for  an  instant,  gave  place  to  a  flash  of 
indignation  direct  from  her  heart.  Her  glance  met 
Everell's  j  he  stood  in  a  recess  of  the  window,  lean- 
ing his  head  against  the  casement,  looking  intently 
on  her.  "  He  too  suspects  me  of  evil,"  she  thought ; 
and  she  could  scarcely  command  her  voice  to  say, 
as  she  turned  and  put  her  hand  in  the  elder  Fletch- 
er's, "  I  have  done  nothing  to  dishonour  you.  You 
believe  me — do  you  not  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  dear  child,  I  must  believe  you,  for 
you  never  deceived  me  :  but  be  not  so  impatient  of 
reproof." 

"  I  am  not  impatient  for  myself,"  she  said ;  "  I  care 
not  how  sternly,  how  harshly  I  am  judged ;  but  I 
see  not  why  my  fault,  even  if  I  had  committed  one, 
should  cast  a  shadow  upon  you." 

Madam  Winthrop  now  interposed  her  good  offices 
to  calm  the  troubled  waters.  "  There  is  no  shadow 
anywhere.  Miss  Leslie,  if  there  is  sunshine  in  the 
conscience ;  and  I  can  answer  for  the  governor,  that 
he  will  overlook  the  disturbance  of  this  evening, 
provided  you  are  discreet  in  future.  But  w^e  are 
WTong  to  keep  you  so  long  in  your  wet  garments. 
Robin,"  she  said,  turning  to  a  servant,  "  light  a  little 
fire  in  the  young  ladies'  room,  and  tell  Jennet  to 
warm  Miss  Leslie's  bed — let  her  strew  a  little  sugar 
in  the  pan — an  excellent  thing,  Mrs.  Grafton,  to  take 
soreness  out  of  the  bones." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  257 

Madam  Winthrop  was  solicitous  to  remove  the 
impression  from  her  guests  that  Miss  LesUe  was 
treated  with  undue  strictness.  Hope  thanked  her 
for  her  kindness ;  and  protesting  that  she  had  no 
need  of  fire  or  warming-pan,  she  hastily  bade  good- 
night, and  retired  to  her  own  apartment. 

Miss  Downing:  lingered  a  moment  after  her,  and 
ventured  to  say,  in  a  low,  timid  tone, "  that  she  trust- 
ed her  uncle  Winthrop  would  harbour  no  displeasure 
against  her  friend  \  she  was  sure  that  she  had  been 
on  some  errand  of  kindness ;  for,  though  she  might 
sometimes  indulge  in  a  blamable  freedom  of  speech, 
she  had  ever  observed  her  to  be  strict  in  all  duties 
and  offices  of  mercy." 

"  You  are  right — right — marvellously  right.  Miss 
Downing,"  cried  Cradock,  exultingly  rubbing  his 
hands;  and  then  added,  in  a  lower  tone,  "  a  dis- 
cerning young  woman.  Miss  Esther." 

"  Humph  !"  said  Mrs.  Grafton,  "  I  don't  see  any- 
thing so  marvellously  right  in  what  Miss  Esther 
says ;  it's  what  everybody  knows  who  knows  Hope, 
that  she  never  did  a  wrong  thing." 

Governor  Winthrop  suppressed  a  smile,  and  said 
to  the  good  lady,  "  We  should  take  heed,  my  wor- 
thy friend,  not  to  lay  too  much  stress  on  doing  or 
not  doing ;  not  to  rest  unduly  on  duties  and  per- 
formances, for  they  be  unsound  ground." 

Mrs.  Grafton  might  have  thought,  if  she  had 
enough  such  ground  to  stand  on,  it  were  terra  firma 
to  her ;  but,  for  once,  she  had  the  discretion  of  si- 
lence. 

Y  2 


258  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Neither  Everellnor  his  father  spoke,  probably  be- 
cause they  felt  more  than  all  the  rest ;  and  Madam 
Winthrop,  feeling  the  awkwardness  of  the  scene, 
mentioned  the  hour,  and  proposed  a  general  disper- 
sion. 

Everell  followed  Miss  Downing  to  the  staircase. 
"  One  word.  Miss  Downing,"  he  said.  Esther  turned 
her  face  towards  him — her  pale  face,  for  that  instant 
illuminated.  "  Did  you,"  he  asked,  "  in  your  apol- 
ogy for  your  friend,  speak  from  knowledge  or  from 
generous  faith  ?" 

"  From  faith,"  she  replied,  "  but  not  generous 
faith,  for  it  was  founded  on  experience." 

Everell  turned,  disappointed,  away.  "  Faith,"  he 
thought,  "  there  might  be  without  sight,  but  faith 
against  sight,  never."  "  Trifles  light  as  air"  are 
proverbially  momentous  matters  to  lovers.  Everell 
had  too  noble  a  mind  to  indulge  in  that  fretful  jeal- 
ousy ^vhich  is  far  more  the  result  of  an  egregious 
self-love  than  love  of  another.  But  he  had  cherish- 
ed for  Hope  a  consecrating  sentiment ;  he  had  in- 
vested her  with  a  sacredness  which  the  most  refined, 
the  purest,  and  most  elevated  love  throws  around  the 
object  of  its  devotion. 

"  On  magic  ground  that  castle  stoode, 
And  fenced  with  many  a  spelle." 

"Were  these  "  spelles"  to  be  dissolved  by  the  light  of 
truth  ?  "  Why  should  one,"  thought  Everell, "  who 
seemed  so  pure  that  she  might  dwell  in  light — so 
artless,  confiding,  and  fearless — why  should  she  per- 
mit herself  to  be  obscured  by  mystery  1     If  her 


HOPE    LESLIE.  259 

meeting  with  Sir  Philip  Gardiner  was  accidental,  why 
not  say  so  ?  But  what  right  have  I  to  scan  her  con- 
duct— what  right  to  expect  an  explanation  1  It  is 
evident  she  feels  nothing  more  for  me  than  the  fa- 
miliar alTection  of  her  childhood.  How  she  talked 
to  me  this  evening  of  Esther  Downing  !  *  If  she  had 
a  brother,  she  would  select  her  friend  from  all  the 
world  for  his  wife' — '  Esther  was  not  precise,  she 
was  only  discreet' — '  she  w^as  not  formal,  but  timid.' 
Perhaps  she  sees  I  love  her,  and  thus  delicately 
tries  to  give  a  different  bent  to  my  affections;  but 
that  is  impossible;  every  hope,  every  purpose,  has 
been  concentrated  in  her.  My  affections  may  be 
blighted,  but  they  cannot  be  transferred.  Perhaps 
it  is  true,  as  some  satirists  say,  that  a  woman's  heart 
is  wayward,  fantastic,  and  capricious.  This  vagrant 
knight  has  scarcely  turned  his  eyes  from  Hope  since 
he  first  saw  her,  and  I  know  he  has  addressed  the 
most  presumptuous  flattery  to  her.  Perhaps  she  fa- 
vours his  pretensions.  I  shrink  even  from  his  gazing 
upon  her,  as  if  there  were  something  sullying  in  the 
glance  of  his  eye ;  and  yet  she  violates  the  customs 
of  the  country,  she  braves  severe  displeasure,  to  walk 
alone  with  him  ;  with  him  she  is  insensible  to  a  gath- 
ering storm.  He  is  incapable  of  loving  her  ;  he  is 
intoxicated  with  her  beauty;  he  seeks  her  fortune. 
Her  fortune  !  I  had  forgotten  that  my  father  made 
that  a  bar  between  us.  Fortune !  I  never  thought 
of  anything  so  mean  as  wealth  in  connexion  with 
her.  I  would  as  soon  barter  my  soul  as  seek  any 
woman  for  fortune ;  and  Hope  Leslie  !  oh,  I  should 


260  HOPE    LESLIE. 

as  soon  think  of  the  dowry  of  a  celestial  spirit,  as  of 
your  being  enriched  by  the  trappings  of  fortune." 
These  disjointt '  thoughts,  and  many  others  that 
.uld  natura,  -ip  in  the  mind  of  a  young 

lover,  indicated  the  ardour,  the  enthusiasm,  the  dis- 
interestedness^ of  Everell's  passion,  and  the  restless 
and  fearful  state  into  which  he  had  been  plunged  by 
the  events  of  the  evening. 

o 

While  he  was  pursuing  this  train  of  fancies,  m 
which  some  sweetness  mingled  with  the  bitter,  Es- 
ther had  followed  Hope  to  her  apartment,  and,  hav- 
ing shut  the  door,  turned  on  her  friend  a  look  of 
speaking  inquiry  and  expectation,  to  which  Hope 
did  not  respond,  but  continued,  in  a  hurried  manner, 
to  disrobe  herself,  throwing  her  drenched  shawl  on 
one  side,  and  her  w^et  dress  on  the  other. 

Esther  tor^^  a  silver  whistle  from  the  toilet,  and 
was  opening  the  door  to  summon  Jennet  with  its 
shrill  call,  when  Hope,  observing  her  intention,  cried 
out,  "  If  you  love  me,  Esther,  don't  call  Jennet  to- 
night ;  I  wish,  at  least,  to  be  spared  her  croaking." 

"  As  you  please,"  replied  Esther,  quietly  reclosing 
the  door ;  "  I  thought  Jennet  had  best  come  and 
take  care  of  your  apparel,  as,  if  your  mind  was  not 
otherwise  occupied,  you  w^ould  not  choose  to  leave 
it  in  such  disorder."  While  Esther  spoke  she  stood 
by  the  toilet,  smoothing  her  kerchief  and  restoring  it 
to  the  laundress'  folds. 

"  Yes,"  said  Hope,  "  I  prefer  any  disorder  to  the 
din  of  Jennet's  tongue.  I  cannot,  Esther— I  cannot 
always  be  precise." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  261 

"  Precision,  I  know,  is  not  interesting,'^  said  Esther, 
with  a  slight  tremulousness  of  voire ;  "  but  if  you 
had  a  Uttle  more  of  it,  Hope,  i^  'd  n'e  yourseK 
and  your  friends  a  vast  deal  ..^. 

"  Now  do  not  you  reproach  me,  Esther !  that  is 
the  drop  too  much !"  said  Hope,  turning  her  face  to 
the  pillow  to  hide  the  tears  that  gushed  from  her 
eyes  :  "  I  know  I  am  vexed  and  cross  ;  but  I  did  not 
mean  that  you  were  too  precise — I  do  not  know 
what  I  meant.  I  feel  oppressed  j  and  I  want  sym- 
pathy, and  not  reproof." 

"  Unburden  your  heart,  then,  to  me,"  said  Esther, 
kneeling  by  the  bedside,  and  throwing  her  arm  over 
Hope  :  ''  most  gladly  w^ould  I  pay  back  the  debt  of 
sympathy  I  owe  you." 

"  And  never,  dear  Esther,  did  a  poor  creditor  re- 
ceive a  debt  more  joyfully  than  I  shouL'Hhis.  But 
others  are  concerned  in  my  secret :  a  sacred  promise 
requires  me  to  preserve  it  inviolate.  The  governor, 
and  your  aunt,  and  all  of  them  might  have  known — 
and  most  of  all,  Everell — "  she  continued,  raising 
herself  on  her  elbow — "  they  might  have  known  that 
I  should  not  have  been  roaming  about  such  a  pitiless 
night  as  this  without  good  reason ;  and  Everell,  I 
am  sure,  knows  that  I  despise  the  silliness  of  making 
a  secret  out  of  nothing.  I  don't  care  so  much  for 
the  rest ;  but  it  was  very,  very  unkind  of  Everell  I 
I  am  sure  my  heart  has  been  always  open  as  the 
day  to  him." 

Perhaps  Miss  Downing  was  not  quite  pleased  with 
Hope's  discriminating  between  the  censure  of  Ever- 


262  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ell  and  the  rest  of  the  family ;  for  she  said,  with 
more  even  than  her  ordinary  gravity,  "  There  is  but 
one  thing,  Hope,  that  ought  to  make  you  independ- 
ent of  the  opinion  of  any  of  your  friends." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  The  acquittal  of  your  conscience." 

"  My  conscience !  Oh,  my  dear  Esther,  no  moth- 
er Lois  nor  grandmother  Eunice  ever  had  a  more 
quiet  conscience  than  I  have  at  this  moment ;  and 
I  really  wish  that  my  tutors,  governors — good  friends 
all — would  not  think  it  necessary  to  keep  quite  so 
strict  a  guard  over  me." 

"  Hope  Leslie,"  said  Esther,  "  you  do  allow  your- 
self too  much  liberty  of  thought  and  word  :  you  cer- 
tainly know  that  we  owe  implicit  deference  to  our 
elders  and  superiors ;  we  ought  to  be  guided  by 
their  advice,  and  governed  by  their  authority." 

"Esther,  you  are  a  born  preacher,"  exclaimed 
Hope,  w^ith  a  sort  of  half  sigh,  half  groan  of  impa- 
tience. "  Nay,  my  dear  friend,  don't  look  so  hor- 
ridly solemn :  I  am  sure,  if  I  have  wounded,  your 
feelings,  I  deserve  to  be  preached  to  all  the  rest  of 
my  life.  But,  really,  I  do  not  entirely  agree  with  you 
about  advice  and  authority.  As  to  advice,  it  needs 
to  be  very  carefully  administered  to  do  any  good, 
else  it's  like  an  injudicious  patch,  which,  you  know, 
only  makes  the  rent  worse ;  and  as  to  authority,  I 
would  not  be  a  machine  to  be  moved  at  the  pleasure 
of  anybody  that  happened  to  be  a  little  older  than 
myself.  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  submit  to  Mr, 
Fletcher,  for  he  never — "  and  she  smiled  at  her 


HOPE    LESLIE.  263 

own  sophistry  —  "he  never  requires  submission. 
Now,  Esther,  don't  look  at  me  so,  as  if  I  was  httle 
better  than  one  of  the  wicked.  Come,  kiss  me — 
good-night;  and  when  you  say  your  prayers,  Es- 
ther, remember  me,  for  I  need  them  more  than  you 
think." 

This  last  request  was  made  in  a  plaintive  tone, 
and  with  unaffected  seriousness,  and  Esther  turned 
away  to  perform  the  duty,  with  a  deep  feeling  of  its 
necessity ;  for  Hope,  conscious  of  her  integrity,  had 
perhaps  been  too  impatient  of  rebuke  ;  and  if,  to  a 
less  strict  judge  than  Esther,  she  seems  to  have  be- 
trayed a  little  of  the  spoiled  child,  to  her  she  ap- 
peared to  be  very  far  from  that  gracious  state  where- 
in every  word  is  weighed  before  it  is  uttered,  and 
every  action  measured  before  it  is  performed. 


END  OF  VOL.  h 


HOPE    LESLIE: 


EARLY  TIMES 


THE     MASSACHUSETTS. 


BY     THE     AUTHOR     OF 

THE    LINWOODS,"    "  POOR   RICH    MAN,"    "  LIVE    AND    LET 
LIVE,"    "  REDWOOD,"    &c. 


Here  stood  tlie  Indian  chieftain,  rejoicing-  in  his  glory  ! 
How  deep  the  shade  of  sadness  that  rests  upon  his  story : 
For  the  white  man  came  with  power — like  brethren  they  met — 
But  the  Indian  fires  wont  out,  and  the  Indian  sun  has  set  I 

And  the  chieftain  has  departed — gone  is  his  hunting-ground, 

And  the  twanging  of  the  bowstrin  ^-  is  a  forgotten  sound  : 

Where  dwelleth  yesterday  ?  and  where  is  Echo's  cell] 

Where  has  the  rainbow  vanished  1 — there  does  the  Indian  dwell. — E. 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 

VOL.   II. 


NEW-YORK: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,   82   CLIFF-ST. 

1842. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1842,  by 

Harper  &  Brothers, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  New- York. 


HOPE     LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  Those  well  scene  natives  in  grave  Nature's  bests, 
All  close  designs  conceal  in  their  deep  brests," 

MORRELL. 

It  would  be  highly  improper  any  longer  to  keep 
our  readers  in  ignorance  of  the  cause  of  our  heroine's 
apparent  aberration  from  the  line  of  strict  propriety. 
After  her  conversation  with  Everell,  in  which  we 
must  infer,  from  its  effect  on  his  mind,  that  she  man- 
ifested less  art  than  zeal  in  her  friend's  cause,  she 
was  retiring  to  her  own  apartment,  when,  on  passing 
through  the  hall,  she  saw  an  Indian  woman  standing 
there,  requesting  the  servant  who  had  admitted  her 
"  to  ask  the  young  ladies  of  the  house  if  they  would 
look  at  some  rare  moccasins." 

Miss  Leslie  was  arrested  by  the  uncommon  sweet- 
ness of  the  stranger's  voice ;  and  fixing  her  eye  on 
her,  she  was  struck  with  the  singular  dignity  and 
grace  of  her  demeanour — a  certain  air  indicating  an 
"  inborn  royalty  of  soul,"  that  even  the  ugly  envelope 
of  a  blanket  did  not  conceal." 

The  stranger  seemed  equally  interested  in  Miss 
Leslie's  appearance  ;  and,  fixing  her  eye  intently  on 
her,  "  Pray  try  my  moccasins,  lady,"  she  said,  ear- 
nestly. 


4  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  Oh,  certainly ;  I  should  of  all  things  like  to  buy 
a  pair  of  you,"  said  Hope ;  and,  advancing,  she  was 
taking  them  from  her  shoulder,  over  which  they  were 
slung,  when  she,  ascertaining  by  a  quick  glance  that 
the  servant  had  disappeared,  gently  repressed  Miss 
Leslie's  hand,  saying  at  the  same  time,  "  Tell  me  thy 
name,  lady." 

"  My  name  !  Hope  Leslie.  But  who  art  thou  1" 
Hope  asked  in  return,  in  a  voice  rendered  almost  in- 
articulate by  the  thought  that  flashed  into  her  mind. 

The  stranger  cast  down  her  eyes,  and  for  half  an  in- 
stant hesitated;  then  looking  apprehensively  around, 
she  said,  in  low,  distinct  accents,  "  Hope  Leslie,  I 
am  Magawisca." 

"  Magawisca  !"  echoed  Hope.  "  Oh,  Everell !" 
and  she  sprang  towards  the  parlour  door  to  summon 
Everell. 

"  Silence  !  stay,"  cried  Magawisca,  with  a  vehe- 
ment gesture,  and  at  the  same  time  turning  to  escape 
should  Hope  prosecute  her  intention. 

Hope  perceived  this,  and  again  approached  her. 
"  It  cannot,  then,  be  Magawisca,"  she  said  ;  and  she 
trembled  as  she  spoke  with  doubts,  hopes,  and  fears. 

Magawisca  mio;ht  have  at  once  identified  herself 
by  opening  her  blanket  and  disclosing  her  person ; 
but  that  she  did  not,  no  one  will  wonder  who  knows 
that  a  savage  feels  more  even  than  ordinary  sensibihty 
at  personal  deformity.  She  took  from  her  bosom  a 
necklace  of  hair  and  gold  entwined  together.  "  Dost 
thou  know  this  1"  she  asked.  "  Is  it  not  like  that  thou 
wearest  ?" 


HOrE    LESLIE. 


Hope  grasped  it,  pressed  it  to  her  lips,  and  an- 
swered by  exclaiming  passionately,  "  My  sister !  my 
sister  !" 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  token  from  thy  sister.  Listen  to  me, 
Hope  Leslie:  my  time  is  brief;  I  may  not  stay  here 
another  moment ;  but  come  to  me  this  evening  at 
nine  o'clock,  at  the  burial-place,  a  little  beyond  the 
clump  of  pines,  and  I  will  give  thee  tidings  of  thy 
sister  :  keep  what  I  say  in  thine  own  bosom ;  tell 
no  one  thou  hast  seen  me ;  come  alone,  and  fear  not." 

"  Oh,  I  have  no  fear,"  exclaimed  Hope,  vehement- 
ly ;  "  but  tell  me—tell  me  !" 

Magawisca  put  her  finger  on  her  lips  in  token  of 
silence,  for  at  this  instant  the  door  was  again  open- 
ed, not  by  the  servant  who  had  before  appeared, 
but  by  Jennet.  Magawisca  instantly  recognised 
her,  and  turned  as  if  in  the  act  of  departing. 

Time  had,  indeed,  wrought  little  change  on  Jen- 
net, save  imparting  a  shriller  squeak  to  her  doleful 
voice,  and  a  keener  edge  to  her  sharp  features. 
"  Madam  Winthrop,"  she  said,  "  is  engaged  now, 
but  says  you  may  call  some  other  time  wath  your 
moccasins  ;  and  I  would  advise  you  to  let  it  be  any 
other  than  the  fag-end  of  a  Saturday — a  wrong  sea- 
son for  temporalities." 

While  Jennet  was  uttering  this  superfluous  coun- 
sel, Hope  sprang  off  the  steps  after  Magawisca,  anx- 
ious for  some  farther  light  on  her  dawning  expecta- 
tions. 

"  Stay,  oh  stay,"  she  said,  "  one  moment,  and  let 
me  try  your  moccasins." 

A  2 


6  HOPE    LESLIE. 

At  the  same  instant  Mrs.  Grafton  appeared  from 
the  back  parlour,  evidently  in  a  great  flurry.  "  Here, 
you  Indian  woman,"  she  screamed, "  let  me  see  your 
moccasins." 

Thus  beset,  Magawisca  was  constrained  to  retrace 
her  steps,  and  confront  the  danger  of  discovery. 
She  drew  her  blanket  closer  over  her  head  and  face, 
and  reascending  the  steps,  threw  her  moccasins  on 
the  floor,  and  cautiously  averted  her  face  from  the 
light.  It  was  too  evident  to  her  that  Jennet  had 
some  glimmering  recollections ;  for,  while  she  affect- 
ed to  busy  herself  with  the  moccasins,  she  turned  her 
inquisitorial  gray  eyes  towards  her  with  a  look  of 
sharp  scrutiny.  Once  Magawisca,  with  a  movement 
of  involuntary  disdain,  returned  her  glance.  Jennet 
dropped  the  moccasins  as  suddenly  as  if  she  had  re- 
ceived a  blow,  hemmed  as  if  she  were  choking,  and 
put  her  hand  on  the  knob  of  the  parlour  door. 

"  Oh,"  thought  Magawisca,  "  I  am  lost !"  But 
Jennet,  confused  by  her  misty  recollections,  relin- 
quished her  purpose,  whatever  it  was,  and  returned 
to  the  examination  of  the  moccasins.  In  the  mean 
while,  Hope  stood  behind  her  aunt  and  Jennet,  her 
hands  clasped,  and  her  beautiful  eyes  bent  on  Mag- 
awisca with  a  supplicating  inquiry. 

Mrs.  Grafton,  as  usual,  was  intent  on  her  traffic. 
"It  was  odd  enough  of  Madam  Winthrop,"  she 
said, "  not  to  let  me  know  these  moccasins  were  here ; 
she  knew  I  wanted  them — at  least  she  must  know 
I  might  want  them ;  and  if  I  don't  want  them,  that's 
nothing  to  the  purpose.    I  like  to  look  at  everything 


HOPE    LESLIE.  7 

that's  going.  It  is  a  diversion  to  the  mind.  A  neat 
article,"  she  continued ;  "  I  should  like  you  to  have 
a  pair,  Hope ;  Sir  Philip  said,  yesterday,  they  gave 
a  trig  look  to  a  pretty  foot  and  ankle.  How  much 
does  she  ask  for  them  ?' 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  Hope. 

"  Do  not  know !  that's  peculiar  of  you,  Hope 
Leslie ;  you  never  inquire  the  price  of  anything.  I 
dare  say  Tawney  expects  enough  for  them  to  buy 
all  the  glass  beads  in  Boston.     Hey,  Tawney  ?" 

Mrs.  Grafton  now,  for  the  first  time,  turned  from 
the  articles  to  their  possessor :  she  was  struck  with 
an  air  of  graceful  haughtiness  in  her  demeanour, 
strongly  contrasting  with  the  submissive,  dejected 
deportment  of  the  natives  whom  she  was  in  the  hab- 
it of  seeing ;  and  dropping  the  moccasins  and  turning 
to  Hope,  she  whispered,  "  Best  buy  a  pair,  dearie — 
by  all  means  buy  a  pair — pay  her  anything  she  asks 
— best  keep  peace  with  them :  '  never  affront  dogs 
nor  Indians.'  " 

Hope  wanted  no  urging;  but,  anxious  to  get  rid 
of  the  witnesses  that  embarrassed  her,  and  quick  of 
invention,  she  directed  Jennet  to  go  for  her  purse, 
*'  which  she  would  find  in  a  certain  basket,  or  drawer, 
or  somewhere  else ;"  and  reminded  her  aunt  that  she 
had  promised  to  call  in  at  Mrs.  Cotton's  on  her  way 
to  lecture,  to  look  at  her  hyacinths,  and  that  she  had 
no  time  to  lose. 

Jennet  obeyed,  and  Mrs.  Grafton  said,  "That's 
true,  and  it's  thoughtful  of  you  to  think  of  it,  Hope ; 
but,"  she  added,  lowering  her  voice,  "  I  would  not 


8  HOPE    LESLIE. 

like  to  leave  you  alone,  so  I'll  just  open  the  parlour 
door." 

Before  Hope  could  intercept  her,  she  set  the  door 
ajar,  and  through  the  aperture  Magawisca  had  a  per- 
fect view  of  Everell,  who  was  sitting  musing  in  the 
window-seat.  An  involuntary  exclamation  burst 
from  her  lips ;  and  then,  shuddering  at  this  exposure 
of  her  feelings,  she  hastily  gathered  together  the 
moccasins  that  were  strewn  over  the  floor,  dropped 
a  pair  at  Hope's  feet,  and  darted  away. 

Hope  had  heard  the  exclamation  and  understood 
it.  Mrs.  Grafton  heard  it  without  understanding  it, 
and  followed  Magawisca  to  the  door,  calling  after 
her,  ^^  Do  stay  and  take  a  httle  something ;  Madam 
Winthrop  has  always  a  bone  to  give  away.  Ah  ! 
you  might  as  well  call  after  the  wind ;  she  has  al- 
ready turned  the  corner.  Heaven  send  she  may 
not  bear  malice  against  us !  What  do  you  think, 
Hope?"  Mrs.  Grafton  turned  to  appeal  to  her 
niece ;  but  she,  foreseeing  endless  interrogatories,  had 
made  good  her  retreat,  and  escaped  to  her  own 
apartment. 

Jennet,  however,  came  to  the  good  lady's  rehef ; 
listened  to  all  her  conjectures  and  apprehensions, 
and  reciprocated  her  own. 

Jennet  could  not  say  what  it  w^as  in  the  woman, 
but  she  had  the  strangest  feeling  all  the  time  she 
was  there — a  mysterious  beating  of  her  heart  that 
she  could  not  account  for  ;  as  to  her  disappearing  so 
suddenly,  that  she  did  not  think  much  of;  the  forest- 
ers were  always  impatient  to  get  to  their  haunts ; 


HOPE    LESLIE. 


they  were  like  the  "wild  ass,"  that  the  Scripture 
saith  "  scorneth  the  multitude  of  a  city." 

But  we  leave  Mrs.  Grafton  and  Jennet  to  their 
unedifying  conference,  to  follow  our  heroine  to  the 
privacy  of  her  own  apartment.  There,  in  the  first 
rush  of  her  newly-awakened  feelings,  till  then  re- 
pressed, she  wept  like  a  child,  and  repeated  again 
and  again,  "  Oh,  my  sister !  my  sister !"  Her  mind 
w^as  in  a  tumult ;  she  knew  not  what  to  beheve — 
what  to  expect — what  to  hope. 

But,  accustomed  to  diffuse  over  every  anticipation 
the  sunny  hue  of  her  own  happy  temperament,  she 
flattered  herself  that  she  would  even  that  night  meet 
her  sister ;  that  she  would  be  forever  restored  to  her ; 
that  the  chord  severed  by  the  cruel  disaster  at  Bethel 
would  be  rebound  about  their  hearts.  She  had  but 
a  brief  space  to  compose  herself,  and  that  was  pass- 
ed in  fervent  supplications  for  the  blessing  of  God 
upon  her  hopes.  She  must  go  to  the  lecture,  and 
after  that  trust  to  her  ingenuity  to  escape  to  the  ren- 
dezvous. The  thought  of  danger  or  exposure  never 
entered  her  mind,  for  she  was  not  addicted  to  fear; 
and,  as  she  reflected  on  the  voice  and  deportment  of 
the  stranger,  she  was  convinced  she  could  be  no 
other  than  Magawisca,  the  heroine  of  Everell's  im- 
agination, whom  he  had  taught  her  to  beheve  was 
one  of  those  who, 

"  Without  arte's  bright  lamp,  by  nature's  eye, 
Keep  just  promise,  and  love  equitie." 

Almost  as  impatient  to  go  to  the  lecture  as  she 
was  afterward  to  escape  from  it  (we  trust  our  read- 


10  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ers  have  absolved  her  for  her  apparent  indecorum  in 
the  sanctuary),  she  had  tied  and  untied  her  hat  twen- 
ty times  before  she  heard  the  ringing  of  the  bell  for 
the  assembling  of  the  congregation.  She  refused, 
as  has  been  seen,  the  escort  of  Everell,  for  she  dared 
not  expose  to  him  emotions  which  she  could  not  ex- 
plain. 

After  the  various  detentions  which  have  been  al- 
ready detailed,  she  arrived  at  the  appointed  rendez- 
vous, and  there  saw  Magawisca,  and  Magawisca 
alone,  kneeling  before  an  upright  stake  planted  at 
one  end  of  a  grave.  She  appeared  occupied  in  de- 
lineating a  figure  on  the  stake  with  a  small  imple- 
ment she  held  in  her  hand,  which  she  dipped  in  a 
shell  placed  on  the  ground  beside  her. 

Hope  paused  with  a  mingled  feeling  of  disappomt- 
ment  and  awe  j  disappointment  that  her  sister  was 
not  there,  and  awe  inspired  by  the  solemnity  of  the 
scene  before  her  :  the  spirit-stirring  figure  of  Maga- 
wisca, the  duty  she  was  performing,  the  flickering 
light,  the  monumental  stones,  and  the  dark  shadows 
that  swept  over  them  as  the  breeze  bowed  the  tall 
pines.  She  drew  her  mantle,  that  fluttered  in  the 
breeze,  close  around  her,  and  almost  suppressed  her 
breath,  that  she  might  not  disturb  what  she  believed 
to  be  an  act  of  filial  devotion. 

Magawisca  was  not  unconscious  of  Miss  Leslie's 
approach,  but  she  deemed  the  office  in  which  she 
was  engaged  too  sacred  to  be  interrupted.  She  ac- 
companied the  movement  of  her  hand  with  a  low 
chant  in  her  native  tongue  j  and  so  sweet  and  va- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  11 

ried  were  the  tones  of  her  voice,  that  it  seemed  to 
Hope  they  might  have  been  breathed  by  an  invisi- 
ble spirit. 

When  she  had  finished  her  work,  she  leaned  her 
head  for  a  moment  against  the  stake,  and  then  rose 
and  turned  to  Miss  LesUe  j  a  moonbeam  shot  across 
her  face ;  it  was  wet  with  tears,  but  she  spoke  in  a 
tranquil  voice.  "  You  have  come — and  alone  V  she 
said,  casting  a  searching  glance  around  her. 

'*  I  promised  to  come  alone,"  replied  Hope. 

"  Yes,  and  I  trusted  you  ;  and  I  will  trust  you  far- 
ther, for  the  good  deed  you  did  Nelema." 

"  Nelema,  then,  lived  to  reach  you." 

"  She  did ;  wasted,  faint,  and  dying,  she  crawled 
into  my  father's  wigwam.  She  had  but  scant  time 
and  short  breath  ;  with  that  she  cursed  your  race, 
and  blessed  you,  Hope  Leslie  j  her  day  was  ended ; 
the  hand  of  death  pressed  her  throat,  and  even 
then  she  made  me  swear  to  perform  her  promise  to 
you." 

"  And  you  will,  Magawisca,"  cried  Hope,  impet- 
uously, "  you  will  give  me  back  my  sister  ?" 

"  Nay,  that  she  never  promised — that  I  cannot  do. 
I  cannot  send  back  the  bird  that  has  mated,  to  its 
parent  nest — the  stream  that  has  mingled  with  other 
waters,  to  its  fountain." 

"  Oh,  do  not  speak  to  me  in  these  dark  sayings," 
replied  Hope,  her  smooth  brow  contracting  with 
impatience  and  apprehension,  and  her  hurried  man- 
ner and  convulsed  countenance  contrasting  strongly 
with  the  calmness  of  Magawisca ;  "  what  is  it  you 
mean  1     Where  is  my  sister  1" 


12  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  She  is  safe — she  is  near  to  you — and  you  shall 
see  her,  Hope  Leslie." 

"  But  when — and  where,  Magawisca  ?  Oh,  if  I 
could  once  clasp  her  in  my  arms,  she  never  should 
leave  me — she  never  should  be  torn  from  me  again." 

"Those  arms,"  said  Magawisca,  with  a  faint 
smile,  "  could  no  more  retain  thy  sister  than  a  spi- 
der's web.  The  lily  of  the  Maqua's  valley  will  never 
again  make  the  English  garden  sweet." 

"  Speak  plainer  to  me,"  cried  Hope,  in  a  voice  of 
entreaty  that  could  not  be  resisted.  "Is  my  sis- 
ter— "  she  paused,  for  her  quivering  lips  could  not 
pronounce  the  words  that  rose  to  them. 

Magawisca  understood  her,  and  replied.  "  Yes, 
Hope  Leslie,  thy  sister  is  married  to  Oneco." 

"  God  forbid !"  exclaimed  Hope,  shuddering  as  if 
a  knife  had  been  plunged  in  her  bosom.  "  My  sis- 
ter married  to  an  Indian  !" 

"  An  Indian  !"  exclaimed  Magawisca,  recoiling 
with  a  look  of  proud  contempt,  that  showed  she  re- 
ciprocated with  full  measure  the  scorn  expressed  for 
her  race.  "  Yes,  an  Indian,  in  whose  veins  runs  the 
blood  of  the  strongest,  the  fleetest  of  the  children  of 
the  forest,  who  never  turned  their  backs  on  friends 
or  enemies,  and  whose  souls  have  returned  to  the 
Great  Spirit  stainless  as  they  came  from  him.  Think 
ye  that  your  blood  will  be  corrupted  by  mingling 
with  this  stream  ?" 

Long  before  Magawisca  ceased  to  pour  out  her 
indignation,  Hope's  first  emotion  had  given  place  to 
a  burst  of  tears  j  she  wept  aloud,  and  her  broken  ut- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  13 

terance  of  "  0,  my  sister !  my  sister !  My  dear 
mother !"  emitted  but  imperfect  glimpses  of  the  ruined 
hopes,  the  bitter  feelings  that  oppressed  her. 

There  was  a  chord  in  Magawisca's  heart  that 
needed  but  the  touch  of  tenderness  to  respond  in 
harmony;  her  pride  vanished,  and  her  indignation 
gave  place  to  sympathy.  She  said  in  a  low,  sooth- 
ing voice,  "  Now  do  not  weep  thus ;  your  sister  is 
well  with  us.  She  is  cherished  as  the  bird  cherishes 
her  young.  The  cold  winds  may  not  blow  on  her, 
nor  the  fierce  sun  scorch  her,  nor  a  harsh  sound  ever 
be  spoken  to  her ;  she  is  dear  to  Mononotto  as  if  his 
own  blood  ran  in  her  veins;  and  Oneco — Oneco 
worships  and  serves  her  as  if  all  good  spirits  dwelt 
in  her.     Oh,  she  is  indeed  well  with  us." 

"There  lies  my  mother,"  cried  Hope,  without 
seeming  to  have  heard  Magawisca's  consolations; 
"she  lost  her  life  in  bringing  her  children  to  this 
wild  world,  to  secure  them  in  the  fold  of  Christ. 
0,  God  !  restore  my  sister  to  the  Christian  family." 

"  And  here,"  said  Magawisca,  in  a  voice  of  deep 
pathos,  "  here  is  my  mother's  grave ;  think  ye  not 
that  the  Great  Spirit  looks  down  on  these  sacred 
spots,  where  the  good  and  the  peaceful  rest,  with 
an  equal  eye  ?  think  ye  not  their  children  are  His 
children,  whether  they  are  gathered  in  yonder  tem- 
ple where  your  people  worship,  or  bow  to  him  be- 
neath the  green  boughs  of  the  forest  ?" 

There  was  certainly  something  thrilling  in  Maga- 
wisca's faith,  and  she  now  succeeded  in  riveting- 
Hope's  attention.     "  Listen  to  me,"  she  said ;  "  your 

Vol.  IL— B 


14  HOPE    LESLIE. 

sister  is  of  what  you  call  the  Christian  family.  I  be- 
lieve ye  have  many  names  in  that  family.  She  hath 
been  signed  with  the  cross  by  a  holy  father  from 
France ;  she  bows  to  the  crucifix." 

"Thank  God!"  exclaimed  Hope,  fervently,  for 
she  thought  that  any  Christian  faith  was  better  than 
none. 

"Perhaps  ye  are  right,"  said  Magawisca,  as  if 
she  read  Hope's  heart ;  "  there  may  be  those  that 
need  other  lights ;  but  to  me,  the  Great  Spirit  is  vis- 
ible in  the  life-creating  sun.  I  perceive  him  in  the 
gentle  light  of  the  moon  that  steals  in  through  the 
forest  boughs.  I  feel  him  here,"  she  continued, 
pressing  her  hand  on  her  breast,  while  her  face 
glowed  with  the  enthusiasm  of  devotion.  "I  feel 
him  in  these  ever-living,  ever- wakeful  thoughts — 
but  we  waste  time.     You  must  see  your  sister." 

"  When — and  where  ?"  again  demande^rHope. 

"  Before  I  answer  you,  you  must  promise  me  by 
this  sign,"  and  she  pointed  4.0  the  emblem  of  her 
tribe,  an  eagle,  wdiich  she  had  rudely  delineated  on 
the  post  that  served  as  a  headstone  to  her  mother's 
grave ;  "  you  must  promise  me  by  the  bright  host  of 
Heaven,  that  the  door  of  your  lips  shall  be  fastj 
that  none  shall  know  that  you  have  seen  me,  or  are 
to  see  me  again. 

"I  promise,"  said  Hope,  with  her  characteristic 
precipitancy. 

"  Then,  when  five  suns  have  risen  and  set,  I  will 
return  with  your  sister.  But  hush !"  she  said,  sud- 
denly stopping,  and  turning  a  suspicious  eye  towards 
the  thicket  of  everCTeens. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  15 

"  It  was  but  the  wind,"  said  Hope,  rightly  inter- 
preting Magawisca's  quick  glance,  and  the  slight 
inclination  of  her  head. 

"  You  would  not  betray  me !"  said  Magavvisca, 
in  a  voice  of  mingled  assurance  and  inquiry.  "  Oh, 
more  than  ever  entered  into  thy  young  thoughts 
hangs  upon  my  safety." 

"  But  why  any  fear  for  your  safety  ?  why  not 
come  openly  among  us  ?  I  will  get  the  word  of  our 
good  governor  that  you  shall  come  and  go  in  peace. 
No  one  ever  feared  to  trust  his  word." 

"  You  know  not  what  you  ask." 

"  Indeed  I  do ;  but  you,  Magawisca,  know  not 
what  you  refuse ;  and  why  refuse  ?  are  you  afraid 
of  being  treated  like  a  recovered  prisoner  ?  Oh,  no ! 
every  one  will  delight  to  honour  you,  for  your  very 
name  is  dear  to  all  ]\Ir.  Fletcher's  friends — most  dear 
to  Everell." 

"  Dear  to  Everell  Fletcher  1  Does  he  remember 
me  ?  Is  there  a  place  in  his  heart  for  an  Indian  ?" 
she  demanded,  with  a  blended  expression  of  pride 
and  melancholy. 

"Yes,  yes,  Magawisca,  indeed  is  there,"  replied 
Hope,  for  now  she  thought  she  had  touched  the  right 
key.  "  It  was  but  this  morning  that  he  said  he  had 
a  mind  to  take  an  Indian  guide,  and  seek  you  out 
among  the  Maquas."  Magawisca  hid  her  face  in 
the  folds  of  her  mantle,  and  Hope  proceeded  with 
increasing  earnestness.  "  There  is  nothing  in  the 
wide  world — there  is  nothing  that  Everell  thinks  so 
good  and  so  noble  as  you.     Oh,  if  you  could  but 


16  HOPE    LESLIE. 

have  seen  his  joy,  when,  after  your  parting  on  that 
horrid  rock,  he  first  heard  you  was  living  !  He  has 
described  you  so  often  and  so  truly,  that  the  moment 
I  saw  you  and  heard  your  voice,  I  said  to  myself, 
*  this  is  surely  Everell's  Magawisca.' " 

"  Say  no  more,  Hope  Leslie,  say  no  more,'*  ex- 
claimed Magawisca,  throwing  back  the  envelope 
from  her  face,  as  if  she  were  ashamed  to  shelter 
emotions  she  ought  not  to  indulge.  "  I  have  prom- 
ised my  father,  I  have  repeated  the  vow  here  on  my 
mother's  grave,  and  if  I  were  to  go  back  from  it, 
those  bright  witnesses,"  she  pointed  to  the  heavens, 
"  would  break  their  silence.  Do  not  speak  to  me 
again  of  Everell  Fletcher." 

"  Oh  yes,  once  again,  Magawisca  :  if  you  will  not 
listen  to  me ;  if  you  will  but  give  me  this  brief,  mys- 
terious meeting  wdth  my  poor  sister,  at  least  let  Ev- 
erell be  with  me ;  for  his  sake,  for  my  sake,  for  your 
own  sake,  do  not  refuse  me." 

Magawisca  looked  on  Hope's  glowing  face  for  a 
moment,  and  then  shook  her  head  with  a  melan- 
choly smile.  "  They  tell  me,"  she  said,  "  that  no 
one  can  look  on  you  and  deny  you  aught ;  that  you 
can  make  old  men's  hearts  soft,  and  mould  them  at 
3'our  will ;  but  I  have  learned  to  deny  even  the  cra- 
vings of  my  own  heart ;  to  pursue  my  purpose  like 
the  bird  that  keeps  her  Aving  stretched  to  the  toilsome 
flight,  though  the  sweetest  note  of  her  mate  recalls 
her  to  the  nest.  But  ah  !  I  do  but  boast,"  she  contin- 
ued, casting  her  eyes  to  the  ground.  "  I  may  not 
trust  myself  j  that  was  a  childish  scream  that  esca- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  17 

ped  me  when  I  saw  Everell ;  had  my  father  heard 
it,  his  cheek  would  have  been  pale  with  shame.  No, 
Hope  Leslie,  I  may  not  listen  to  thee.  You  must 
come  alone  to  the  meeting,  or  never  meet  your  sis- 
ter :  will  you  come  ?" 

Hope  saw  in  the  determined  manner  of  Magawis- 
ca  that  there  was  no  alternative  but  to  accept  the 
boon  on  her  ow^n  terms,  and  she  no  longer  withheld 
her  compliance.  The  basis  of  their  treaty  being 
settled,  the  next  point  to  be  arranged  was  the  place 
of  meeting.  Magawisca  had  no  objections  to  ven- 
ture again  within  the  town,  but  then  it  would  be 
necessary  completely  to  disguise  Faith  Leslie ;  and 
she  hinted  that  she  understood  enough  of  Hope's 
English  feelings  to  know  that  she  w^ould  wish  to  see 
her  sister  with  the  pure  tint  of  her  natural  complex- 
ion. 

Hope  had  too  much  delicacy  and  too  much  feel- 
ing even  inadvertently  to  appear  to  lay  much  stress 
on  this  point ;  but  the  experience  of  the  evening 
made  her  feel  the  difficulty  of  arranging  a  meeting, 
surrounded  as  she  was  by  vigilant  friends,  and  with- 
in the  sphere  of  their  observation.  Suddenly  it  oc- 
curred to  her  that  Digby,  her  fast  friend,  and  on  more 
than  one  occasion  her  trusty  ally,  had  the  superin- 
tendence of  the  governor's  garden  on  an  island  in 
the  harbour,  and  within  three  miles  of  the  town. 
The  governor's  family  were  in  the  habit  of  resorting 
thither  frequently.  Digby  had  a  small  habitation 
there,  of  which  he  and  his  family  were  the  only  ten- 
ants, and,  indeed,  were  the  only  persons  who  dwelt 
B  2 


18  HOPE    LESLIE. 

on  the  island.  Hope  was  certain  of  permission  to 
pass  a  night  there,  where  she  might  indulge  in  an 
interview  with  her  sister  of  any  length,  without  haz- 
ard of  interruption ;  and,  having  explained  her  plan 
to  Magawisca,  it  received  her  ready  and  full  acqui- 
escence. 

Before  they  separated,  Hope  said,  "  You  will  al- 
low me,  Magawisca,  to  persuade  my  sister,  if  I  can, 
to  remain  with  me  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  if  you  can ;  but  do  not  hope  to  persuade 
her.  She  and  ray  brother  are  as  if  one  life-chord 
bound  them  together ;  and,  besides,  your  sister  can- 
not speak  to  you  and  understand  you  as  I  do.  She 
was  very  young  when  she  was  taken  where  she  has 
only  heard  the  Indian  tongue  :  some,  you  know,  are 
like  water,  that  retains  no  mark;  and  others  like 
the  flinty  rock,  that  never  loses  a  mark."  Maga- 
wisca observed  Hope's  look  of  disappointment,  and, 
in  a  voice  of  pity,  added,  "  Your  sister  hath  a  face 
that  speaketh  plainly  what  the  tongue  should  never 
speak — her  own  goodness." 

When  these  two  romantic  females  had  concerted 
every  measure  they  deemed  essential  to  the  certainty 
and  privacy  of  their  meeting,  Magawisca  bowed  her 
head  and  kissed  the  border  of  Hope's  shawl  with 
the  reverent  delicacy  of  an  Oriental  salutation  ;  she 
then  took  from  beneath  her  mantle  some  fragrant 
herbs,  and  strewed  them  over  her  mother's  grave, 
then  prostrated  herself  in  deep  and  silent  devotion, 
feeling  (as  others  have  felt  on  earth  thus  consecra- 
ted) as  if  the  clods  she  pressed  were  instinct  with 


HOPE    LESLIE.  19 

life.  When  this  last  act  of  filial  love  was  done,  she 
rose,  muffled  herself  closely  in  her  dark  mantle,  and 
departed. 

Hope  lingered  for  a  moment.  "  Mysteriously," 
she  said,  as  her  eye  followed  the  noble  figure  of 
Magawdsca  till  it  was  lost  in  the  surrounding  dark- 
ness, "  mysteriously  have  our  destinies  been  interwo- 
ven. Our  mothers  brought  from  a  far  distance  to 
rest  together  here — their  children  connected  in  in- 
dissoluble bonds !" 

But  Hope  was  soon  aware  that  this  was  no  time 
for  solitary  meditation.  In  the  interest  of  her  inter- 
view with  Magawisca  she  had  been  heedless  of  the 
gathering  storm.  The  clouds  rolled  over  the  moon 
suddenly,  like  the  unfurling  of  a  banner,  and  the 
rain  poured  down  in  torrents.  Hope  had  no  light 
to  guide  her  but  occasional  flashes  of  lightning,  and 
the  candle  whose  little  beam,  proceeding  from  Mr. 
Cotton's  study  window,  pierced  the  dense  sheet  of 
rain. 

Hope  hurried  her  steps  homeward,  and,  as  she 
passed  the  knot  of  evergreens,  she  fancied  she  heard 
a  rattling  of  the  boughs,  as  if  there  were  some  strug- 
gling within,  and  a  suppressed  voice  saying,  "  Hist ! 
whish!"  She  paused,  and  with  a  resolute  step 
turned  towards  the  thicket.  ^'  We  have  been  over- 
heard," she  thought;  "this  generous  creature  shall 
not  be  betrayed."  At  this  instant  a  thunderbolt 
burst  over  her  head,  and  the  whole  earth  seemed 
kindled  in  one  bright  illumination.  She  was  terri- 
fied J  and,  perhaps,  as  much  convinced  by  her  fears 


20  HOPE    LESLIE. 

as  her  reason  that  it  was  both  imprudent  and  use- 
less to  make  any  farther  investigation,  she  again  bent 
her  quick  steps  towards  home.  She  had  scarcely 
surmounted  the  fence,  which  she  passed  more  like  a 
winged  spirit  than  a  fine  lady,  when  Sir  Philip  Gar- 
diner joined  her. 

"  Miss  Leslie !"  he  exclaimed,  as  a  flash  of  light- 
ning revealed  her  person.  "  Now,  thanks  to  my 
good  stars  that  I  am  so  fortunate  as  to  meet  you ; 
suffer  me  to  wrap  my  cloak  about  you ;  you  will  be 
drenched  with  this  pitiless  rain." 

"  Oh  no,  no,"  she  said  ;  "  the  cloak  will  but  en- 
cumber me.  I  am  already  drenched,  and  I  shall  be 
at  home  directly ;"  and  she  would  have  left  him,  but 
he  caught  her  arm,  and  gently  detained  her  while  he 
enveloped  her  in  his  cloak. 

"  It  should  not  be  a  trifle.  Miss  Leslie,  that  has 
kept  you  out,  regardless  of  this  gathering  storm,"  Sir 
Philip  said,  inquiringly.  Miss  Leslie  made  no  reply, 
and  he  proceeded.  "  You  may  have  forgotten  it  is 
Saturday  night — or  perhaps  you  have  a  dispensa- 
tion ?" 

"  Neither,"  replied  Hope. 

"  Neither !  Then  I  am  sure  you  are  abroad  in  some 
godly  cause ;  for  you  need  to  be  one  of  the  right- 
eous— who,  we  are  told,  are  as  bold  as  a  lion — to 
confront  the  governor's  family  after  trespassing  on 
holy  time." 

*•  I  have  no  fears,"  said  Hope. 

"  No  fears !  That  is  a  rare  exemption  for  a  young 
lady ;  but  I  would  that  you  possessed  one  still  more 


HOPE    LESLIE.  21 

rare :  she  who  is  incapable  of  fear  should  never  be 
exposed  to  clanger;  and  if  I  had  a  charmed  shield, 
I  would  devote  my  life  to  sheltering  you  from  all 
harm :  may  not — may  not  love  be  such  a  one  1" 

"  It's  useless  talking,  Sir  Philip,"  replied  Hope, 
if  that  could  be  deemed  a  reply  which  seemed  to 
have  rather  an  indirect  relation  to  the  previous  ad- 
dress, "  it's  useless  talking  in  this  rattling  storm ; 
your  words  drop  to  the  ground  with  the  hailstones  " 

"  And  every  word  you  utter,"  said  the  knight,  bi- 
ting his  Hps  with  vexation,  "  not  only  penetrates  my 
ear,  but  sinks  into  my  heart  j  therefore  I  pray  you 
to  be  merciful,  and  do  not  make  my  heart  heavy." 

"The  hailstones  melt  as  they  touch  the  ground, 
and  my  words  pass  away  as  soon,  I  fancy,"  said 
Hope,  with  the  most  provoking  nonchalance. 

Sir  Philip  had  no  time  to  reply  ;  they  were  just 
turning  into  the  court  in  front  of  Governor  Winthrop's 
house,  when  a  flash  of  lightning,  so  vivid  that  its 
glare  almost  bhnded  them,  disclosed  the  figure  of 
the  mysterious  page  leaning  against  the  gatepost, 
his  head  inclined  forward  as  if  in  the  act  of  listen- 
ing, his  cap  in  his  hand,  his  dark  curls  in  wild  dis- 
order over  his  face  and  neck,  and  he  apparently  un- 
conscious of  the  storm.  They  both  recoiled  :  Hope 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  pity.  "  Ha,  Roslin  !" 
burst  in  a  tone  of  severe  reproach  from  Sir  Philip ; 
but,  instantly  changing  it  for  one  of  kindness,  he  add- 
ed, "  you  should  not  have  waited  for  me,  boy,  in  the 
storm." 

"  I  cared  not  for  the  storm — I  did  not  feel  it,"  re- 


22  HOPE    LESLIE. 

plied  the  lad,  in  a  penetrating  voice,  which  recalled 
to  Miss  Leslie  all  he  had  said  to  her,  and  induced 
her  to  check  her  first  impulse  to  bid  him  in;  she 
therefore  passed  him  without  any  farther  notice,  as- 
cended the  steps,  and,  as  has  been  related  in  the  pre- 
ceding chapter,  met  Everell  in  the  hall. 


It  is  necessary  to  state  briefly  to  our  readers  some 
particulars  in  relation  to  the  reappearance  of  Maga- 
wisca,  which  events  have  not  as  yet  explained. 

Her  father,  from  the  hour  of  his  expulsion  from 
his  own  dominion,  had  constantly  meditated  revenge. 
His  appetite  was  not  sated  at  Bethel :  that  massa- 
cre seemed  to  him  but  a  retaliation  for  his  private 
wrongs.  The  catastrophe  on  the  sacrifice-rock  dis- 
ordered his  reason  for  a  time  ;  and  the  Indians,  who 
perceived  something  extraordinary  in  the  energy  of 
his  unwavering  and  undivided  purpose,  never  be- 
lieved it  to  be  perfectly  restored.  But  this,  so  far 
from  impairing  their  confidence,  converted  it  to  im- 
plicit deference ;  for  they,  in  common  with  certain 
Oriental  nations,  believe  that  an  insane  person  is  in- 
spired ;  that  the  Divinity  takes  possession  of  the 
temple  which  the  spirit  of  the  man  has  abandoned. 
Whatever  Mononotto  predicted  was  believed ;  what- 
ever he  ordered  was  done. 

He  felt  that  Oneco's  volatile,  unimpressive  char- 
acter was  unfit  for  his  purpose,  and  he  permitted 
him  to  pursue,  without  intermission,  his  own  pleasure 
— to  hunt  and  fish  for  his  "  white  bird,"  as  he  called 
the  little  Leslie.    But  Magawisca  was  the  constant 


HOPE    LESLIE.  23 

companion  of  her  father ;  susceptible  and  contem- 
plative, she  soon  imbibed  his  melancholy,  and  be- 
came as  obedient  to  the  impulse  of  his  spirit  as  the 
most  faithful  are  to  the  fancied  intimations  of  the 
Divinit}- .  She  was  the  priestess  of  the  oracle.  Her 
tenderness  for  Everell  and  her  grateful  recollections 
of  his  lovely  mother  she  determined  to  sacrifice  on 
the  altar  of  national  duty. 

In  the  years  1642  and  1643  there  was  a  general 
movement  among  the  Indians.  Terrible  massacres 
were  perpetrated  in  the  English  settlements  in  Vir- 
ginia ;  the  Dutch  establishments  in  New-York  were 
invaded,  and  rumours  of  secret  and  brooding  hostili- 
.#ty  kept  the  colonies  of  New-England  in  a  state  of 
perpetual  alarm.  Mononotto  determined  to  avail 
himself  of  this  crisis,  that  appeared  so  favourable  to 
his  design,  of  uniting  all  the  tribes  of  New-England 
in  one  powerful  combination.  He  first  applied  to 
Miantunnomoh,  hoping  by  his  personal  influence  to 
persuade  that  powerful  and  crafty  chief  to  sacrifice 
to  the  general  good  his  private  feud  with  Uncas,  the 
chief  of  the  Mohegans. 

Mononotto  eloquently  pressed  those  arguments, 
which,  as  is  allowed  by  the  historian  of  the  Indian 
wars,  "seemed  to  right  reason  not  only  pregnant 
to  the  purpose,  but  also  most  cogent  and  invincible," 
and  for  a  time  they  prevailed  over  the  mind  of  Mi- 
antunnomoh. 

Vague  rumours  of  conspiracy  reached  Boston, 
and  the  governor  summoned  Miantunnomoh  to  appear 
before  his  court,  and  abide  an  examination  there. 


24  HOPE    LESLIE. 

The  chief  accordingly  (as  has  been  seen)  came  to 
Boston ;  but  so  artfully  did  he  manage  his  cause  as 
to  screen  from  the  English  every  just  ground  of  of- 
fence. Their  suspicions,  however,  were  not  removed ; 
for  Hubbard  says,  "  though  his  words  were  smooth- 
er than  oil,  yet  many  conceived  in  his  heart  were 
drawn  swords." 

It  may  appear  strange,  that  while  prosecuting  so 
hazardous  and  delicate  an  enterprise,  Mononotto 
should  have  encumbered  himself  with  his  family. 
Magawisca  was  necessary  to  him ;  and  he  submitted 
to  be  accompanied  by  Oneco  and  his  bride,  from  re- 
spect to  the  dying  declaration  of  Nelema,  that  his 
plans  could  never  be  accomplished  till  her  promise 
to  Hope  Leslie  had  been  redeemed  ;  till,  as  she  had 
sworn  to  her  preserver,  the  sisters  had  met. 

Had  the  Indians  been  capable  of  a  firm  combina- 
tion, the  purpose  of  Mononotto  might  have  been 
achieved,  and  the  English  have  been  then  driven 
from  the  American  soil.  But  the  natives  were  thinly 
scattered  over  an  immense  tract  of  country ;  the  dif- 
ferent tribes  divided  by  petty  rivalships,  and  impass- 
able gulfs  of  long-transmitted  hatred.  They  were 
brave  and  strong,  but  it  was  brute  force  without  art 
or  arms :  they  had  ingenuity  to  form,  and  they  did 
form,  artful  conspiracies,  but  their  best-concerted 
plans  were  betrayed  by  the  timid  or  the  treacherous. 

Mononotto  trusted  to  his  daughter  the  arrangement 
of  the  meeting  of  the  sisters,  which,  from  his  hav- 
ing a  superstitious  notion  that  it  was  in  some  way  to 
influence  his  political  purposes,  he  was  anxious  to 


HOPE    LESLIE.  25 

promote.  Magawisca  left  her  companions  at  an  In- 
dian station  on  the  Neponset  River,  and  proceeded 
herself  to  Boston  to  seek  a  private  interview  with 
Hope  Leslie.  The  appearance  of  an  Indian  woman 
in  Boston  excited  no  observation,  the  natives  being 
in  the  habit  of  resorting  there  daily  with  game,  fish, 
and  their  rude  manufactures.  Aware  of  the  necessi- 
ty of  disguising  every  pecuharity,  she  unbound  her 
hair  from  the  braids  in  which  it  was  usually  confined, 
and  combed  it  thick  over  her  forehead,  after  the  fash- 
ion of  the  aborigines  in  the  vicinity  of  Boston,  whom 
Eliot  describes  as  wearing  this  "  maiden  veil."  She 
enveloped  herself  in  a  blanket,  that  concealed  the 
rich  dress  which  it  was  her  father's  pride  (and  per- 
haps her  pleasure)  that  she  should  wear.  Thus  dis- 
guised, and  favoured  by  the  kind  shadows  of  twilight, 
she  presented  herself  at  Governor  Winthrop's,  and 
was,  as  has  already  appeared,  successful  in  her  mis- 
sion. 

Vol.  II.— C 


26  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  II. 


**  I  could  find  in  my  heart  to  disgrace  my  man's  apparel,  and  to 
cry  like  a  woman." — As  You  Like  It. 

Sir  Philip  Gardiner,  by  the  kind  offices  of  Gov- 
ernor Winthrop,  had  obtained  lodgings  at  one  Daniel 
Maud's,  the  "  first  recorded  schoolmaster"  in  Boston. 
Thither  he  went,  followed  by  his  moody  page,  after 
receiving  his  cloak  from  our  thankless  heroine. 

Not  one  word  passed  between  him  and  his  attend- 
ant ;  and,  after  they  reached  their  apartment,  the 
boy,  instead  of  performing  the  customary  servile  du- 
ties of  his  station,  threw  himself  on  a  cushion,  and, 
covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  seemed  lost  in  his 
own  sorrowful  meditations. 

There  had  been  a  little  fire  kindled  on  the  hearth. 
Sir  PhiHp  laid  the  fallen  brands  together,  lighted 
the  candles,  arranged  his  writing  materials  on  the 
table,  and,  without  permitting  himself  to  be  interrupt- 
ed, or  in  the  least  affected  by  the  sobs  that,  at  inter- 
vals, proceeded  from  his  companion,  he  indited  the 
following  epistle  : 

"To   MY   GOOD   AND   TRUSTY   WlLTON  : 

"^In  the  name  of  Heaven,  what  sends  you  to 
New-England  V  were  your  last  words  to  me.  I 
had  not  time  to  answer  your  question  then,  and  per- 
haps, when  I  have  finished,  you  will  say  I  have  not 
ability  now ;  but  who  can  explain  the  motives  of  his 


HOPE    LESLIE.  27 

conduct  ?  Who  can  always  say,  after  an  action  is 
done,  that  he  had  sufficient  motive  ?  Not  one  of 
us,  Wilton,  sons  of  whim  and  folly  that  we  are ! 
But  my  motives,  such  as  they  were,  are  at  your  ser- 
vice ;  so  here  you  have  them. 

"  I  was  tired  of  playing  a  losing  game  ;  even  rats, 
you  know^,  have  an  instinct  by  which  they  flee  a 
falling  house.  I  had  some  compunctious  visitings  at 
leaving  my  king  when  he  hath  such  cruel  need  of 
loyal  servants ;  jeer  not,  Wilton,  I  had  my  scruples. 
It  was  a  saying  of  Father  Baretti,  that  when  Lucifer 
fell,  conscience,  that  once  guided,  remained  to  tor- 
ment him.  My  assertion  thus  modestly  illustrated, 
have  I  not  a  right  to  say  I  had  scruples  ]  I  w^as  wea- 
ried with  a  series  of  ill  luck,  and,  as  other  men  are  as 
good  to  fill  a  ditch,  I  have  retired  till  Dame  Fortune 
shall  see  fit  to  give  her  wheel  a  turn  in  my  royal 
master's  favour.  But  why  come  hither  ?  to  submit 
to  *  King  Winthrop  and  all  his  inventions,  his  Am- 
sterdam fantastical  ordinances,  his  preachings,  mar- 
ryings,  and  other  abusive  ceremonies  V  Patience, 
my  good  gossip,  and  I  will  tell  thee. 

"  You  have  heard  of  ray  old  friend  and  patron, 
Thomas  Morton,  of  Furnival's  Inn  ;  and  you  know 
he  was  once  master  of  a  fine  domain  here,  at  Mount 
Wollaston,  for  which  his  revels  obtained  the  name 
of  the  '  Merry  Mount.'  The  ruling  saintships  of  this 
'  New-English  Canaan'  were  so  scandalized  because, 
forsooth,  he  avowed  and  followed  the  free  tastes  of 
a  gentleman,  that  they  ejected  him  from  his  own  ter- 
ritory. 


38'  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  He  once  wellnigh  obtained  redress  from  the 
king,  and  a  decree  in  his  favour  passed  the  Privy- 
Seal,  but  the  influence  of  his  enemies  finally  prevail- 
ed. He  has  had  the  consolation  of  sundry  retalia- 
tions on  his  opponents  ;  now,  as  he  said,  *  uncasing 
Medusa's  head,  and  raising  the  old  ghost  of  Sir  F. 
Gorges's  patent,'  and  then  thrusting  home  the  keen 
point  of  his  satiric  verse.  However,  though  this  was 
a  bitter  draught  to  his  adversaries,  it  was  but  lean 
satisfaction  to  him ;  and  having  become  old  and 
poor,  and  lost  his  spirit,  he  came  hither  once  more, 
last  winter,  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  an  act  of  ob- 
livion of  all  past  grievances,  and  a  restitution  of  his 
rights. 

"  Immediately  after  his  arrival,  he  wrote  to  me 
that  ^Joshua  had  promised  to  restore  to  him  and 
to  his  tribe  their  lot  in  the  inheritance  of  the  faithful ; 
that  he  was  again  to  be  king  of  the  revels  on  the 
"  Merry  Mount,"  where  he  invited  me  to  live  with 
him,  his  prime  minister  and  heir-apparent.'  The 
letter  came  to  hand  at  a  moment  when  I  was  wea- 
ried with  a  bootless  service,  and  willing  to  grasp 
any  novelty,  and,  accordingly,  1  closed  with  the  offer; 
but,  lo  !  on  my  arrival,  I  found  that  Morton,  instead 
of  being  reinstated  at  Mount  Wollaston,  is  in  jail, 
and  in  honest  opinion  is  reputed  crazy,  as  doubtless 
he  is !  Laugh  at  me,  Wilton,  even  as  the  foul  fiends 
laugh  when  their  master  is  entangled  in  his  own 
meshes !  I  defy  your  laugh  ;  for,  though  a  dupe,  I 
am  not  a  victim  ;  and  Csesar  and  his  fortunes  shall 
yet  survive  the  storm. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  29 

"  I  have  done  with  Morton ;  no  one  here  knows 
or  suspects  our  former  alliance.  My  name  is  not 
like  to  reach  his  ear,  and  if  it  should,  who  w^ould 
take  the  word  of  a  ruined  man  against  an  approved 
candidate  for  membership  with  the  congregation, 
for  such  even  am  I — a  '  brother'  in  this  community 
of  saints. 

"  Luckily,  Morton,  with  that  cunning  incident  to 
madness,  cautioned  me  against  appearing  in  this 
camp  w^ithout  the  uniform  of  the  church-militant,  al- 
leging that  we  must  play  the  part  of  pilgrims  till  we 
were  quite  independent  of  the  favour  of  the  saints. 
Accordingly,  I  assumed  the  Puritan  habit,  bearing, 
and  language,  that  so  much  amused  you  at  our  last 
meeting.  But  why,  you  will  ask,  prolong  this  dull 
masquerade  ?  For  an  object,  my  good  Wilton,  that 
would  make  you  or  me  saint  or  devil,  or  anything 
else  whereby  we  might  secure  it :  the  most  provo- 
king, bewitching,  and  soul-moving  creature  that  ever 
appeared  in  the  form  of  woman  is  my  tempter.  She 
is  the  daughter  and  sole  heir  of  Sir  Walter  Leslie, 
who,  you  may  remember,  was  noted  for  his  gallant- 
ry in  that  mad  expedition  of  Buckingham  to  the  Isle 
of  Rhee. 

"  Is  it  not  a  shame  that  youth  and  beauty  should 
be  thrown  away  upon  these  drivelling,  canting, 
preaching,  praying,  liberty-loving,  lecture-going  Pil- 
grims? Would  it  not  be  a  worthy  act  to  tear 
this  scion  of  a  loyal  stock  from  these  crabs  of  the 
wilderness,  and  set  her  in  our  garden  of  England  ? 
And  would  it  not  be  a  knightly  feat  to  win  the  prize 
C  2 


30  HOPE    LESLIE. 

against  a  young  gallant,  a  pink  of  courtesy,  while 
the  unfledged  boy  is  dreaming  of  love's  elysium  ? 

"  Marvel  as  you  please,  Wilton,  goodly  prospects 
are  dawning  on  me  ;  fortune  smiles,  as  if  inchned  to 
pay  the  good  turn  she  has  so  long  owed  me.  I  am 
in  prime  credit  with  guardians  and  governors — the 
beau-ideal  of  duenna-aunts  and  serving-maids.  Time 
and  chance  favour  me;  but — but  there  is  always 
some  devilish  cross  upon  my  line  of  luck. 

*'  Rosa  came  with  me  to  this  barbarous  land  :  a  fit 
Houri,  you  will  say,  for  a  Mohammedan  saint,  but  an 
odd  appendage  to  a  canting  Roundhead :  even  so 
she  is ;  but  what  was  to  be  done  ?  She  had  no  shel- 
ter but  my  protection.  I  had  still  some  lingering  of 
love  for  her,  and  pity  (don't  scoff!) ;  and,  besides, 
Morton's  representations  had  led  me  to  believe  that 
she  would  not  be  an  inconvenient  member  of  the 
household  at  Merry  Mount ;  so  I  permitted  her  to  dis- 
guise herself,  and  come  over  the  rough  seas  with  me. 
She  is  a  fantastical,  wayward  child,  and  a  true  wom- 
an withal.  She  loves  me  to  distraction,  and  would 
sacrifice  any  tome  but  the  ruling  passion  ofhersex,her 
vanity  ;  but,  in  spite  of  my  entreaties  and  commands, 
she  persists  in  wearing  a  velvet  Spanish  hat,  with  a 
buckle  and  feathers,  most  audaciously  cocked  on  one 
side ;  and,  indeed,  her  whole  apparel  would  better 
suit  a  queen's  page  than  the  humble  serving-boy  of 
a  self-denying  Puritan. 

"  Luckily,  she  is  sad  and  dumpish,  and  does  not 
incline  to  go  abroad  ;  but,  whenever  she  does  appear, 
I  perceive  she  is  eyed  with  curiosity  and  suspicion ; 


HOPE    LESLIE.  31 

and  suspicion  once  thoroughly  awakened,  drscov- 
ery  is  inevitable,  for  you  know  her  face  gives  the  lie 
to  her  doublet  and  hose. 

"  '  Diana's  lip  is  not  more  smooth  and  rubious, 

Her  small  pipe  is  as  the  maiden's  organ,  sound  and  shrill, 
And  all  is  semblative  a  woman's  part.' 

"  If  we  should  be  detected,  I  know  not  what  pun- 
ishment may  be  inflicted  by  the  Draco-laws  of  these 
saints  :  a  public  whipping  of  poor  Rosa — cropping 
of  my  ears — imprisonment — perhaps  death,  if,  per- 
adventure,  some  authority  therefor  should  be  found  in 
the  statutes  of  the  land ;  that  is  to  say,  in  the  old 
Jewish  records. 

"  But  why  expose  myself  to  such  peril  ?  Ah . 
Wilton,  you  would  not  ask  why  if  you  could  see  my 
enchantress ;  but,  without  seeing  her,  no  man  knows 
better  than  you  that 

" '  Love  is  a  sweet  intice, 

'Gainst  whom  the  wisest  wits  as  yet 
Have  never  found  devise.' 

"If  I  could  but  persuade  Rosa  to  be  prudent  till 
we  may  both  cast  off  these  odious  disguises ;  but  she 
disdains  all  caution,  and  fears  nothing  but  being  sup- 
planted in  my  favour. 

"  She  is  still  in  the  fever  of  love — all  eye  and  ear 
— irritable,  jealous,  w^atchful,  and  suspicious.  One 
moment  passionate,  and  the  next  dissolved  in  tears. 
So  intense  a  flame  must  purify  or  consume  the  senti- 
ment her  beauty  inspired ;  it  cannot  be  purified,  and 
— the  alternative — it  is  consumed. 

"  I  cannot  rid  myself  of  her,  I  cannot  control  her, 


32  HOPE    LESLIE. 

and  in  this  jeopardy  I  stand ;  but  I  abandon  all  to 
my  destiny.  Even  Jupiter,  you  know,  was  ruled  by 
fate.  It  is  folly  to  attempt  to  shape  the  events  of 
life ;  as  easily  might  we  direct  the  course  of  the 
stars  :  those  very  stars,  perhaps,  govern  the  accidents 
of  our  being.  The  stars — destiny — Providence,  what 
are  they  all  but  various  terms  for  the  same  invisible, 
irresistible  agency  ?  But  Heaven  forbid  I  should  lose 
myself  in  the  bewildering  mazes  of  these  high  spec- 
ulations !  It  is  enough  for  me  that  I  am  a  knight  of 
the  Holy  Sepulchre,  that  I  wear  my  crucifix,  pray  to 
all  the  saints,  and  eat  no  flesh  on  Fridays.  By-the- 
"way,  on  the  very  first  day  of  my  arrival  here,  I  came 
nigh  to  winning  the  crown  of  martyrdom  by  my 
saintly  obedience  to  the  canons  of  Holy  Church.  The 
Leslie,  in  simplicity  or  mischief,  remarked  on  my 
confining  myself  to  fish  on  Friday ;  rebel  conscience, 
in  spite  of  me,  tinged  my  cheeks ;  but,  thanks  to  my 
garb  of  hypocrisy — panoply  of  steel  never  did  bet- 
ter service — the  Hght  thrust  glanced  off  and  left  me 
unharmed. 

"You  and  I,  Wilton,  are  too  old  to  make,  like 
dreaming  boys,  an  El  Dorado  of  our  future,  and  you 
will  ask  me  what  are  my  rational  chances  of  suc- 
cess in  my  present  enterprise.  I  will  not  remind 
you  of  success  on  former  similar  occasions,  for  my 
vanity  has  been  abated  of  its  presumption  this  very 
evening  by  the  indifference,  real  or  affected,  of  this 
little  sprite. 

"  Ladies  must  have  lovers — idols  must  have  w^or- 
shippers,  or  they  are  no  longer  idols.     I  have  but 


HOPE    LESLIE.  33 

one  rival  here,  and  he,  I  think,  is  appointed  by  his 
■wise  guardians  to  another  destiny  ;  and  being  a  right 
dutiful  youth,  he,  no  doubtj  with  management,  and 
good  fortune  on  my  part,  may  be  made  to  surrender 
his  preference  (which,  by-the-way,  is  quite  obvious), 
and  pass  under  the  yoke  of  authority.  Besides,  the 
helpmate  selected  by  these  judges  in  Israel  for  the 
good  youth  might  be,  if  she  were  a  little  less  saint 
and  more  woman,  a  queen  of  love  and  beauty.  But 
she  is  not  to  my  taste,  I  covet  not  smiles  cold  as  a 
sunbeam  on  Arctic  snows.  Nothing  in  life  is  duller 
than  mathematical  virtue ;  nothing  more  paralyzing 
to  the  imagination  than  unaffected  prudery.  I  detest 
a  woman  like  a  walled  city,  that  can  never  be  ap- 
proached without  your  being  reminded  that  it  is  in- 
accessible ;  a  woman  whose  measured,  premeditated 
words  sound  always  like  the  sentinel-cry,  *  All  is 
well!' 

"Now  the  Leslie  has  a  generous  rashness,  a 
thoughtless  impetuosity,  a  fearlessness  of  the  sancti- 
monious dictators  that  surround  her,  and  a  noble  con- 
tempt of  danger,  that  stimulate  me,  at  least,  to  love 
and  enterprise. 

"  My  hope  is  bold,  Wilton ;  my  ambition  is  to  win 
her  heart;  my  determination  to  possess  her  hand, 
by  fair  means  if  I  can ;  but  if  fortune  is  adverse — if, 
as  I  sometimes  fear,  when  I  shrink  from  the  falcon 
glance  of  her  bright  eye  as  if  the  spear  of  Ithuriel 
touched  me — if  she  has  already  penetrated  my  dis- 
guise, and  persists  in  disregarding  my  suit,  why,  then, 
Necessity !  parent  of  all  witty  inventions,  come  thou 
to  my  aid. 


34  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  Our  old  acquaintance,  Chaddock,  is  riding  in  the 
harbour  here,  owner  and  commander  of  a  good  pin- 
nace. I  have  heard  him  spoken  of  in  the  godly 
companies  I  frequent  as  a  '  notorious  contemner  of 
ordinances,'  from  which  I  infer  he  is  the  same  bold 
desperado  we  knew  him.  My  word  for  it,  it  does 
not  require  more  courage  to  march  up  to  the  can- 
non's mouth  than  to  claim  the  independence  of  a 
gentleman  in  this  Pharisaic  land.  Now  I  think,  if  I 
should  have  occasion  to  smuggle  any  precious  freight, 
and  convey  it  over  the  deep  waters,  convenient  op- 
portunity and  fit  agents  will  not  be  w^anting.  Time 
will  ripen  or  blast  my  budding  hopes :  if  ripen,  why, 
then,  I  will  cast  my  slough  here,  and  present  my 
beautiful  bride  to  my  royal  master  j  or  if,  perchance, 
royalty  should  be  in  eclipse  in  England,  there  are, 
thank  Heaven,  other  asylums  for  beauty  and  fortune. 

"  Farewell,  Wilton  j  yours  in  good  faith, 

"  Gardiner." 

As  Sir  Philip  signed  his  name  to  this  epistle,  he 
felt  Rosa's  head  drop  upon  his  shoulder ;  an  action 
that  indicated,  too  truly,  that  she  had  been  looking 
over  the  last  paragraphs,  at  least,  of  his  letter. 

Fury  flashed  from  his  eyes,  and  he  raised  his  hand 
to  strike  her ;  but,  before  he  had  executed  the  unman- 
ly act,  she  burst  into  a  wild  hysteric  laugh,  that 
changed  his  resentment  to  fear.  "Rosa,  Rosa," 
he  said,  in  a  soothing  tone,  "  for  Heaven's  sake  be 
quiet ;  you  will  be  overheard — you  will  betray  all." 

She  seemed  not  to  hear  him,  but  wringing  her 


HOPE    LESLIE.  35 

hands,  she  repeated  again  and  again,  "I  wish  I 
were  dead  !  I  wish  I  were  dead  !" 

"  Hush !  foolish,  mad  child,  or  you  will  be  discov- 
ered, and  may  indeed  bring  death  upon  yourself." 

"  Death  !  I  care  not ;  death  would  be  heaven's 
mercy  to  what  I  suffer.  What  is  death  to  shame !  to 
guilt!  to  the  bitterness  of  disappointment!  to  the 
rage  of  jealousy  !  Why  should  not  I  die  !"  she  con- 
tinued, overpowering  Sir  Philip's  vain  attempts  to 
calm  her ;  "  why  should  not  I  die  ?  there  is  nobody 
to  care  for  me  if  I  live,  and  there  is  nobody  to  weep 
for  me  if  I  die." 

"  Patience — patience,  Rosa." 

"  Patience  !  my  patience  is  worn  out ;  I  am  tired 
of  this  dreary  world.  0  that  Lady  Lunford  had 
left  me  in  my  convent ;  I  should  have  been  happy 
there.  She  did  not  love  me.  Nobody  has  loved  me 
since  I  left  the  good  nuns — nobody  but  my  little  Ca- 
nary-bird, Mignonne  ;  and  she  always  loved  me,  and 
would  always  sing  to  me,  and  sing  sweetest  when 
my  lady  was  cruellest.  Cruel  as  my  lady  was,  her 
cruelty  was  kindness  to  thine.  Sir  Philip.  0  that 
you  had  left  me  with  her  !" 

"  You  came  to  me  with  your  own  good-will, 
Rosa." 

"  Ay,  Sir  Philip ;  and  will  not  the  innocent  babe 
stretch  its  arms  to  the  assassin  if  he  does  but  smile 
on  it  ?  You  told  me  you  loved  me,  and  I  believed 
you.  You  promised  always  to  love  me,  and  I  be- 
lieved that  too ;  and  there  was  nobody  else  that  lov- 
ed me  but  Mignonne  j  and,  now  I  am  all  alone  in  the 


36  HOPE    LESLIE. 

wide  world,  I  do  wish  I  were  dead."  She  sunk 
down  at  Sir  Phihp's  feet,  laid  her  head  on  his  knee, 
and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  were  breaking.  "  Oh  ! 
what  shall  I  do,"  she  said  ;  "  where  shall  Igol  If 
I  go  to  the  good,  they  will  frown  on  me  and  despise 
me  ;  and  I  cannot  go  to  the  wucked — they  have  no 
pity." 

Sir  Philip's  heart,  depraved  as  it  Avas,  felt  some 
emotions  of  compassion  as  he  looked  on  this  young 
and  beautiful  creature,  bowed  to  the  earth  with  rem- 
ediless anguish ;  some  touches  of  remorse  and  pity, 
such  as  Milton's  fallen  angel  felt  when  he  contem- 
plated those  "  millions  of  spirits  for  his  fault  amer- 
ced of  Heaven."  "  Poor  child  !"  he  said,  laying  his 
hand  on  her  smooth  brow, "  would  to  God  you  had 
never  left  your  convent !" 

Rosa  felt  the  blistering  tears,  that  flowed  from  the 
relics  of  his  better  nature,  drop  on  her  cheek.  She 
raised  her  heavy  lids,  and  a  ray  of  pleasure  shot 
from  her  kindling  eye.  "  Then  you  do  love  me," 
she  said  ;  "  you  would  not  weep  only  for  pity  j  you 
do  love  me  still  ?' 

iSir  Philip  perceived  the  eagerness  with  which  she 
caught  at  the  first  glimmering  of  returning  tender- 
ness, and  well  knew  how  to  draw  his  advantage 
from  it.  He  soothed  her  with  caresses  and  profes- 
sions^  and,  when  he  had  restored  her  to  composure, 
he  endeavoured  to  impress  her  with  the  necessity,  for 
both  their  sakes,  of  more  prudent  conduct.  He  con- 
vinced her  that  their  happiness,  their  safety,  and  per- 
haps their  lives,  depended  on  their  escaping  detec- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  37 

tion ;  and,  after  explaining  the  defeat  of  his  hopes 
in  relation  to  JMorton,  he  averred  that  the  part  of  his 
letter  relating  to  Miss  Leslie  was  mere  badinage, 
written  for  his  friend's  amusement ;  and  he  conclu- 
ded with  reiterated  promises  that  he  would  return 
with  her  in  the  first  ship  bound  to  England. 

Rosa  was  credulous — at  least  she  wished  to  be- 
lieve ;  she  was  grateful  for  restored  tenderness  ;  and, 
without  daring  to  confess  how  nearly  she  had  al- 
ready betrayed  him  to  Miss  Leslie,  she  promised  all 
the  circumspection  that  Sir  Philip  required. 

Vol.  IL— D 


38  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  I  should  have  been  more  strange,  I  must  confess, 
But  that  thou  overheard'st  me  ere  I  was  'ware 
My  love's  true  passion  ;  therefore  pardon  me, 
And  not  impute  this  yielding  to  light  love." 

Romeo  and  Juliet. 

The  week  that  succeeded  Hope  Leslie's  interview 
with  Magawisca  was  one  of  anxiety  to  most  of  the 
members  of  Governor  Winthrcp's  family. 

The  habitual  self-possession  of  the  governor  him- 
self seemed  somewhat  disturbed  ;  he  was  abstracted 
and  thoughtful ;  frequently  held  secret  conferences 
with  Sir  Philip  Gardiner  in  his  study ;  and,  in  rela- 
tion to  this  stranger,  he  appeared  to  have  departed 
from  his  usual  diplomatic  caution,  and  to  have  ad- 
mitted him  to  the  most  confidential  intimacy.  There 
were  frequent  private  meetings  of  the  magistrates; 
and  it  was  quite  evident,  from  the  external  motions 
of  these  guardians  of  the  colony,  that  some  state  se- 
cret was  heaving  in  their  bosoms. 

The  governor  was  in  the  habit  of  participatmg 
with  his  wife  his  most  secret  state  affairs,  moved  to 
this  confidence,  no  doubt,  by  his  strict  views  of  her 
rights  as  his  helpmate ;  for  it  cannot  be  supposed, 
even  for  a  moment,  that  one  of  the  superior  sex  should 
find  pleasure  in  telling  a  secret. 

But  in  this  instance  he  communicated  nothing  to 
his  trustworthy  partner,  excepting  some  obscure  in-  ' 


HOPE    LESLIE.  39 

timationsthat  might  be  gathered  from  the  significant 
utterance  of  such  general  truths  as, "  That  it  was  im- 
possible for  human  foresight  to  foresee  everything ; 
that  those  who  stood  at  the  helm  of  state  could  not 
be  too  vigilant ;  that  ends  were  often  brought  about 
by  unexpected  means ;"  and  similar  truisms,  which, 
enunciated  by  grave  and  dignified  lips,  are  invested 
with  importance  from  the  source  whence  they  pro- 
ceed. 

Madam  Winthrop  was  happily  too  much  absorb- 
ed with  the  feminine  employment  of  watching  the  de- 
velopment of  her  niece's  affairs  to  have  much  curios- 
ity in  relation  to  cabinet  secrets.  She  naturally 
concluded  that  some  dangerous  adherent  of  that  arch- 
heretic,  Gorton,  had  been  discovered ;  or,  perhaps, 
some  new  mode  of  faith  had  dem^anded  magisterial 
interference ;  whatever  her  mental  conclusions  were, 
it  is  certain  her  thoughts  all  ran  in  another  channel. 
In  all  ages  of  the  world,  in  every  condition,  and  at 
every  period  of  life,  a  woman's  interest  in  the  prog- 
ress of  a  love-affair  masters  every  other  feeling. 

Esther  Downing  was  a  favourite  of  her  aunt :  and 
as  it  had  been  urged  by  Mr.  Downing,  as  an  objec- 
tion to  his  removal  to  New-England,  that  his  daugh- 
ters would  have  small  chance  of  being  eligibly  mar- 
ried there,  it  became  a  point  of  honour  with  Madam 
Winthrop,  after  he  had  been  persuaded  to  overlook 
this  objection,  to  prove  to  him  that  it  was  unfound- 
ed. 

Madam  Winthrop  was  too  upright  intentionally 
to  do  a  wrong  to  any  one  j  but,  without  being  her- 


40  HOPE    LESLIE. 

self  conscious  of  it,  she  was  continually  setting  off 
the  lights  of  her  niece's  character  by  what  she  deem- 
ed the  shades  of  Hope  Leslie's.  Our  heroine's  inde- 
pendent temper  and  careless  gayety  of  heart  had 
more  than  once  offended  against  the  strict  notions 
of  Madam  Winthrop,  who  was  of  the  opinion  that 
the  deferential  manners  of  youth,  which  were  the 
fashion  of  the  age,  had  their  foundation  in  immuta- 
ble principles. 

Nothing  was  farther  from  Miss  Leslie's  intention 
than  any  disrespect  to  a  woman  whom  she  had  been 
taught  to  venerate ;  but,  unfortunately,  she  would 
sometimes  receive  what  Madam  Winthrop  meant  for 
affability  as  if  it  were  simply  the  kindness  of  an 
equal ;  she  had  been  seen  to  gape  in  the  midst  of 
the  good  lady's  most  edifying  remarks;  and  once 
she  ran  away  to  gaze  on  a  brilliant  sunset  at  the  mo- 
ment Madam  Winthrop  was  condescendingly  rela- 
ting some  very  important  particulars  of  her  early 
life.  This  was  certainly  indecorous ;  but  her  offen- 
ces were  trifling,  and  were  probably  forgotten  by 
Madam  Winthrop  herself  long  before  their  effects 
were  effaced  from  her  mind. 

Esther  was  always  respectful,  always  patient,  al- 
ways governed  by  the  slightest  intimation  of  her 
aunt's  wishes ;  and  it  must  be  confessed  that,  even 
to  those  who  were  less  partial  and  prejudiced  than 
Madam  Winthrop,  Miss  Downing  appeared  far  more 
lovely  than  our  heroine  during  the  week  when  she 
was  suffering  the  extremes  of  anxiety  and  apprehen- 
sion.    No  one  who  did  not  know  that  there  was  a 


HOPE    LESLIE.  41 

secret  and  sufficient  cause  for  her  restlessness,  her 
seeming  indifference  to  her  friends,  and  to  everything 
about  her,  could  have  escaped  the  conclusion  that 
forced  itself  on  EverelPs  mind :  that  fortune,  and 
beauty,  and  indulgence  had  had  their  usual  and  fatal 
effect  on  Hope  Leslie.  In  the  bitterness  of  his  dis- 
appointment, he  wished  he  had  never  returned  to 
have  the  vision  of  her  ideal  perfection  expelled  from 
his  imagination  by  the  hght  of  truth. 

With  the  irritable  feeling  of  a  lover,  he  watched 
the  devoted  attentions  of  Sir  Philip  Gardiner  to 
Hope,  which  she,  almost  unconscious  of  them,  re- 
ceived passively,  but,  as  Everell  thought,  favoura- 
bly. Utterly  engrossed  in  one  object,  she  never  re- 
flected that  there  had  been  anything  in  her  conduct 
to  excite  EverelPs  distrust ;  and,  feeling  more  than 
ever  the  want  of  that  sympathy  and  undisguised  af- 
fection which  she  had  always  received  from  him, 
she  was  hurt  at  his  altered  conduct ;  and  her  man- 
ner insensibly  conforming  to  the  coldness  and  con- 
straint of  his,  he  naturally  concluded  that  she  design- 
ed to  repel  him,  and  he  would  turn  from  her  to  re- 
pose in  the  calm  and  twilight  quiet  that  was  shed 
about  the  gentle  Esther,  whom  he  knew  to  be  pure, 
disinterested,  humble,  and  devoted. 

Poor  Hope,  the  subject  of  his  unjust  condemna- 
tion, was  agitated,  not  only  by  impatience  for  the 
promised  meeting  with  her  unfortunate  sister,  but  by 
fear  that  some  unforeseen  circumstance  might  prevent 
it.  She  was  also  harassed  with  a  sense  of  conflict- 
ing duties.  She  sometimes  thought  that  the  duty  of 
D  2 


42  HOPE    LESLIE. 

restoring  her  sister  to  the  condition  in  which  she  was 
born  was  paramount  to  the  obhgation  of  her  pronaise 
to  Magawisca.  She  would  waver  and  resolve  to 
disclose  her  secret  appointment;  but  the  form  of 
Magawdsca  w^ould  rise  to  her  recollection,  with  its 
expression  of  truth,  sweetness,  and  confidence,  as  if 
to  check  her  treacherous  purpose. 

A  thousand  times  she  condemned  herself  for  the 
rashness  of  her  promise  to  Magawnsca,  by  w^hich  she 
had  reduced  herself,  surrounded  as  she  was  by  wise 
and  efficient  friends,  to  act  wdthout  their  council  and 
aid.  Had  Everell  treated  her  with  his  accustomed 
kindness,  the  habitual  confidence  of  their  intercourse 
might  have  led  her  to  break  through  the  restriction 
of  her  promise,  but  she  dared  not  deliberately  vio- 
late her  word  so  solemnly  pledged.  Oppressed  with 
these  anxieties,  the  hours  rolled  heavily  on;  and 
when  Friday,  the  appointed  day,  arrived,  it  seemed 
to  Hope  that  an  age  had  intervened  since  her  inter- 
view with  Magawisca. 

She  had  taken  care  previously  to  propose  an  ex- 
cursion on  Friday  to  the  governor's  garden;  and, 
contrary  to  usual  experience  when  a  long-projected 
pleasure  is  to  be  realized,  every  circumstance  was 
propitious.  The  day  was  propitious — one  of  Na- 
ture's holydays;  the  governor,  too,  was  propitious, 
and  even  promoted  the  party  with  unprecedented 
zeal. 

After  various  delays,  which,  however  trifling,  had 
increased  Hope's  nervous  impatience,  they  were  on 
the  point  of  setting  forth,  when  Madam  Winthrop, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  43 

who  was  not  one  of  the  party,  came  into  the  parlour, 
and  said,  after  a  slight  hesitation,  "  I  am  loath,  my 
young  friends,  to  interfere  with  what  you  seem  to 
have  set  your  hearts  on,  but  really — "  she  paused. 

"  Really  what,  ma'am  ?"  asked  Hope,  impatiently. 

Madam  Winthrop  was  not  inclined  to  be  spurred 
by  Miss  Leslie,  and  she  answered  very  deliberately, 
"  I  have  a  feehng  as  if  something  were  to  happen 
to-day.  I  am  a  coward  on  the  water  at  all  times, 
more  than  becomes  one  who  fully  realizes  that  the 
same  Providence  that  watches  over  us  on  the  land 
follows  us  on  the  great  deep." 

"  But  your  fears,  madam,"  said  Sir  Philip,  "  did 
not  prevent  your  crossing  the  stormy  Atlantic." 

"  Nay,  Sir  Philip ;  and  I  know  not  what  mettle 
that  woman  is  made  of  that  would  not  go  hand  in 
hand  with  her  husband  in  so  glorious  a  cause  as 
ours." 

"  Are  we  not  all  ready  ?"  asked  Hope,  anxious  to 
escape  before  Madam  Winthrop  proposed,  as  she 
apprehended  she  was  about  to  do,  a  postponement  of 
the  party. 

"  Yes,  all  ready,  I  believe.  Miss  Leslie,  but  not  all 
too  impatient  to  await  a  remark  I  was  about  to  make, 
namely,  Sir  Philip,  that  a  party  of  pleasure  is  very 
different  from  a  voyage  of  duty." 

"  Certainly,  madam,"  replied  Sir  Philip,  who 
trusted  that  assent  would  end  the  conversation, 
"  widely  different." 

"  It  is  not  necessary  for  me,"  resumed  Madam 
"Winthrop,  "  to  state  all  the  points  of  difference." 


44  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  Oh !  not  in  the  least,  ma'am,"  exclaimed  Hope. 

"  Miss  Leslie  !"  said  Madam  Winthrop,  in  a  tone 
of  surprise ;  and  then,  turning  her  eye  to  Everell,  who 
was  standing  next  to  Esther,  she  said,  resuming  her 
measured  tone,  "  My  responsibility  is  so  great  to  my 
brother  Downing — I  had  an  uncommon  dream  about 
you,  Esther,  last  night ;  and,  if  anything  should  hap- 
pen to  you — " 

"  If  it  is  me  you  are  concerned  about,  aunt,' '  said 
Esther,  untying  her  bonnet,  "  I  will  remain  at  home. 
Do  not  let  me  detain  you,"  she  added,  turning  to 
Hope,  "  another  moment." 

Nothing  seemed  to  Hope  of  any  importance  in 
comparison  with  the  prosecution  of  her  plans  ;  and, 
nodding  a  pleased  assent  to  Esther,  she  took  her 
aunt's  arm  in  readiness  to  depart. 

"  How  changed,"  thought  Everell,  as  his  eye 
glanced  towards  her, ''  thus  selfishly  and  impatiently 
to  pursue  her  own  pleasure  without  the  slightest  no- 
tice of  her  friend's  disappointment."  His  good  feel- 
ings were  interested  to  compensate  for  the  indiffer- 
ence of  Hope.  "  If,"  he  said  to  Madam  Winthrop, 
"  you  will  commit  Miss  Downing  to  my  care,  I  will 
promise  she  shall  encounter  no  danger  that  my  cau- 
tion may  avoid  or  my  skill  overcome." 

Madam  Winthrop's  apprehensions  vanished.  "  If 
she  is  in  your  particular  charge,  Mr.  Everell,"  she 
said,  "  I  shall  be  greatly  relieved.  I  know  I  am  of 
too  anxious  a  make.  Go,  my  dear  Esther ;  Mr.  Ev- 
erell will  be  constantly  near  you — under  Providence, 
your  safeguard.     I  believe  it  is  not  right  to  be  too 


HOPE    LESLIE.  45 

much  influenced  by  dreams.  See  that  she  keeps  her 
shawl  round  her,  Mr.  Everell,  while  on  the  water. 
I  feel  quite  easy  in  confiding  her  to  your  care." 

Everell  bowed,  and  expressed  his  gratitude  for 
Madam  Winthrop's  confidence,  and  Esther  turned 
on  him  a  look  of  that  meek  and  pleased  dependance 
which  it  is  natural  for  woman  to  feel,  and  which  men 
like  to  inspire,  because,  perhaps,  it  seems  to  them  an 
instinctive  tribute  to  their  natural  superiority. 

"  Miss  Leslie  has  become  so  sedate  of  late,"  con- 
tinued Madam  Winthrop,  with  a  very  significant 
smile, "  that  I  scarcely  need  request  that  no  unwont- 
ed sounds  of  revelry  and  mirth  may  proceed  from  any 
member  of  the  governor's  family,  which  ever  has  been, 
as  it  should  be,  a  pattern  of  Gospel  sobriety  to  the 
colony." 

Mrs.  Grafton  dropped  a  bracelet  she  was  clasping 
on  her  niece's  arm,  but  Madam  Winthrop's  remark 
— half  reproof,  half  admonition — excited  no  emotion 
in  Hope,  w^hose  heart  was  throbbing  with  her  own 
secret  anxieties,  and  who  was  now  in  some  measure 
relieved  by  Sir  Philip  making  a  motion  for  their  de- 
parture, by  adroitly  availing  himself  of  this  first  avail- 
able pause,  and  offering  her  his  arm. 

As  soon  as  they  were  fairly  out  of  the  house, 
"  Revelry  and  mirth,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Grafton,  as  if 
the  words  blistered  her  tongue,  "  revelry  and  mirth, 
indeed !  I  think  poor  Hope  will  forget  how  to  laugh 
if  she  stays  here  much  longer.  I  wonder,  Sir  Philip, 
if  it  is  such  a  mighty  offence  to  use  one's  laughing 
faculties,  what  they  were  given  for  I'' 


46  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"I  believe,  madam,"  replied  the  knight,  with 
well-sustained  gravity,  "  that  ingenious  theologians 
impute  this  convulsion  of  the  muscles  to  some  disor- 
ganization occasioned  by  Adam's  transgression ;  and, 
in  support  of  their  hypothesis,  they  maintain  that 
there  is  no  allusion  to  laughter  in  Scripture.  Madam 
Winthrop,  I  fancy,  intends  that  her  house  shall  be  a 
little  heaven  on  earth." 

Honest  Cradock,  who  had  taken  his  favourite  sta- 
tion at  Miss  Leslie's  side,  replied,  without  in  the  least 
suspecting  the  knight's  irony,  "  Now,  Sir  Philip,  I 
marvel  whence  you  draw  that  opinion.  I  have  stud- 
ied all  masters  in  theology,  from  the  oldest  down  to 
the  youngest,  and,  greatest  of  all.  Master  Calvin, 
with  whose  precious  sentences  I '  sweeten  my  mouth 
always  before  going  to  bed,'  yet  did  I  never  see  that 
strange  doctrine  concerning  laughter.  To  me  it  ap- 
pears— the  Lord  preserve  me  from  advancing  novel- 
ties— but  to  me  it  appears  that  there  is  no  human 
sound  so  pleasant  and  so  musical  as  the  laugh  of  a  lit- 
tle child,  and  of  such  are  the  kingdom  of  Heaven. 
I  have  heard  the  walls  at  Bethel  ring  with  bursts  of 
laughter  from  Miss  Hope  ;  and  the  thought  came  to 
me  (the  Lord  forgive  me  if  I  erred  therein)  that  it 
w^as  the  natural  voice  of  innocence,  and,  therefore, 
pleasing  to  him  that  made  her." 

Hope  was  touched  with  the  pure  sentiment  of  her 
good  tutor,  and  she  involuntarily  slipped  her  arm 
into  his.  Sir  Philip  w^as  also  touched,  and,  for  once 
speaking  without  forethought,  he  said,  "  I  would 
give  a  kingdom  for  one  of  the  laughs  of  my  boyhood." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  47 

"  I  dare  say,  Sir  Philip,"  said  Cradock.  "  for  tru- 
ly there  is  no  heart-work  in  the  transgressor's  laugh." 

"  Sir !"  exclaimed  Sir  Philip,  angrily. 

The  simple  man  started  as  if  he  had  received  a 
blow,  and  Hope  said,  "  You  did  not  mean  to  call  Sir 
Philip  a  transgressor  ?" 

"  Oh,  certainly  not,  in  particular,  certainly  not ; 
Sir  Philip's  professions  are  great,  and,  I  doubt  not, 
practice  correspondent ;  but  all  of  us  add  daily  trans- 
gression to  transgression,  which,  I  doubt  not,  Sir  Phil- 
ip will  allow." 

"  Yes,"  said  Hope,  archly,  "  it  is  far  easier,  as  is 
said  in  one  of  your  good  books.  Master  Cradock, '  to 
subscribe  to  a  sentence  of  universal  condemnation 
than  to  confess  individtkal  sins.'  " 

"  What  blessed  times  we  have  fallen  on,"  retort- 
ed Sir  Philip,  "  when  youthful  beauties,  instead  of 
listening  to  the  idle  songs  of  Troubadours,  or  the  fan- 
tastic flatteries  of  vagrant  knights,  or  announcing 
with  their  ruby  lips  the  rewards  of  chivalry,  are  ex- 
ploring the  mines  of  divinity  with  learned  theologi- 
ans like  Master  Cradock,  and  bringing  forth  such 
diamond  sentences  as  the  pithy  saying  Miss  Leslie 
has  quoted." 

"  Heaven  preserve  us !  Sir  Philip,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Grafton,  "  Hope  Leslie  study  theology  I  you  are  as 
mad  as  a  March  hare;  all  her  theology  she  has 
learned  out  of  the  Bible  and  Common  Prayer-book, 
which  should  always  go  together,  in  spite  of  what 
the  governor  says.  It  is  peculiar  that  a  man  of  his 
commodity  of  sense  should  bamboozle  himself  with 


48  HOPE    LESLIE. 

that  story  he  told  at  breakfast.  Oh,  you  was  not 
there,  Sir  Phihp :  well,  he  says  that  in  his  son's  li- 
brary there  are  a  thousand  books,  and  among  them 
a  Bible  and  Prayer-book  bound  together — one  jewel 
in  the  dunghill — but  that  is  not  what  he  says ;  it 
seems  that  this  unlucky  Prayer-book  is  gnawed  to 
mince-meat  by  the  mice,  and  not  another  book  in 
the  library  touched.*  I  longed  to  commend  the  in- 
stinct of  the  little  beasts,  that  knew  what  good  food 
w^as ;  but  everybody  listened  with  such  a  solemn  air, 
and  even  you,  Hope  Leslie,  who  are  never  afraid  to 
smile,  even  you  did  not  move  your  lips." 

"  I  did  not  hear  it,"  said  Hope. 

"  Did  not  hear  it !  that  is  peculiar ;  why,  it  was 
just  when  Robin  was  coming  in  with  the  rolls — just 
as  I  had  taken  my  second  cup — just  as  Everell  gave 
Esther  Downing  that  bunch  of  rosebuds :  did  you 
take  notice  of  that  ?" 

"  Yes,"  rephed  Hope,  and  a  deep  blush  suffused 
her  cheek.  She  had  noticed  the  offering  with  pain, 
not  because  her  friend  was  preferred,  but  because  it 
led  her  mind  back  to  the  time  when  she  was  the  ob- 
ject of  all  Everell's  little  favours,  and  impressed  her 
with  a  sense  of  his  altered  conduct. 

The  telltale  blush  did  not  escape  the  watchful 
eye  of  Sir  Philip ;  and,  determined  to  ascertain  if  the 
"  bolt  of  Cupid"  had  fallen  on  this  "  little  Western 
flower,"  he  said,  "I  perceive  that  Miss  Leslie  is 
aware  that  rosebuds,  in  the  vocabulary  of  lovers,  are 
made  to  signify  a  declaration  of  the  tender  passion." 

*  A  fact  gravely  stated  in  Governor  Winthrop's  journal. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  49 

Secret  springs  of  the  heart  are  sometimes  sudden- 
ly touched,  and  feelings  disclosed  that  have  been 
hidden  even  from  our  own  self-observation.  Hope 
had  been  moved  by  Miss  Downing's  story,  and  ta- 
king a  generous  interest  in  her  happiness,  she  had, 
with  that  ardent  feeling  with  which  she  pursued 
every  object  that  interested  her,  resolved  to  promote 
it  in  the  only  mode  by  which  it  could  be  attained. 
But  now,  at  the  first  intimation  that  her  romantic 
wishes  were  to  be  fulfilled,  strange  to  tell,  and  still 
stranger  to  her  to  feel,  there  was  a  sudden  rising  in 
her  heart  of  disappointment,  a  sense  of  loss,  and, 
we  shrink  from  recording  it,  but  the  truth  must  be 
told,  tears,  honest  tears,  gushed  from  her  eyes.  Oh, 
pardon  her,  all  ye  youthful  devotees  to  secret  self- 
immolation  !  all  ye  youthful  Minervas,  who  hide 
with  an  impenetrable  shield  of  wisdom  and  dignity, 
the  natural  workings  of  your  hearts  !  Make  all  due 
allowance  for  a  heroine  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
who  had  the  misfortune  to  five  before  there  was  a 
system  of  education  extant,  who  had  not  learned, 
like  some  young  ladies  of  our  enlightened  days,  to 
prattle  of  metaphysics,  to  quote  Reid,  and  Stewart, 
and  Brown,  and  to  know  (full  as  well  as  they,  per- 
haps) the  springs  of  human  action,  the  mysteries  of 
mind,  still  profound  mysteries  to  the  unlearned. 

Hope  Leslie  was  shocked,  not  that  she  had  be- 
trayed her  feeUngs  to  her  companions,  but  at  her 
own  discovery  of  their  existence ;  not  that  they  had 
appeared,  but  that  they  were.  The  change  had  been 
so  gradual,  from  her  childish  fondness  for  Everell;  to 

Vol.  II.~  E 


50  HOPE    LESLIE. 

a  more  mature  sentiment,  as  to  be  imperceptible  even 
to  herself.  She  made  no  essay  to  explain  her  emo- 
tion. Mrs.  Grafton,  though  not  remarkably  saga- 
cious, was  aware  of  its  obvious  interpretation,  and 
of  the  pressing  necessity  of  offering  some  ingenious 
reading.  "  What  a  miserable  nervous  way  you  have 
fallen  into,  Hope,"  she  said,  "  since  you  was  caught 
out  in  that  storm ;  she  must  have  taken  an  inward 
cold.  Sir  Philip." 

"  The  symptoms,"  replied  the  knight,  significantly, 
"  would  rather,  I  should  think,  indicate  an  internal 
heat." 

"  Heat  or  cold,  Hope,"  continued  Mrs.  Grafton, 
"I  am  determined  you  shall  go  through  a  regular 
course  of  medicine ;  valerian  tea  in  the  morning, 
and  lenitive  drops  at  night.  You  have  not  eaten 
enough  for  the  last  week  to  keep  a  humming-bird 
ahve.  Hope  has  no  kind  of  faith  in  medicine.  Sir 
Philip,  but  I  can  tell  her  it  is  absolutely  necessary, 
in  the  spring  of  the  year,  to  sweeten  the  blood." 

Sir  Philip  looked  at  Hope's  glowing  face,  and 
said  "he  thought  such  blood  as  mantled  in  Miss 
Leslie's  cheek  needed  no  medical  art  to  sweeten  it." 

Hope,  alike  insensible  to  the  good-natured  efforts 
of  her  aunt  and  the  flatteries  of  Sir  Philip,  was  men- 
tally resolving  to  act  most  heroically,  to  expel  every 
selfish  feeling  from  her  heart,  and  to  live  for  the 
happiness  of  others. 

The  experienced  smile  sorrowfully  at  the  generous 
impulses  and  fearless  resolves  of  the  young,  who 
know  not  how  costly  is  the  sacrifice  of  self-indul- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  51 

gence,  how  difficult  the  ascent  to  the  heights  of 
disinterestedness ;  but  let  not  the  youthful  aspirant 
be  discouraged;  the  wing  is  strengthened  by  use, 
and  the  bird  that  drops  in  its  first  flutterings  about 
the  parent-nest,  may  yet  soar  to  the  sky. 

Our  heroine  had  rallied  her  spirits  by  the  time  she 
joined  her  companions  in  the  boat  that  was  awaiting 
them  at  the  wharf;  and  in  the  effort  to  veil  her  feel- 
ings, she  appeared  to  Everell  extravagantly  gay; 
and  he,  being  unusually  pensive,  and  seeing  no  cause 
for  her  apparent  excitement,  attributed  it  to  Sir  Phil- 
ip's devotion :  a  cause  that  certainly  had  no  tendency 
to  render  the  effect  agreeable  to  him. 

When  they  disembarked,  they  proceeded  imme- 
diately to  the  single  habitation  on  the  island,  Dig- 
by's  neat  residence.  The  faithful  fellow^  welcomed 
Everell  with  transports  of  joy.  He  had  a  thousand 
questions  to  ask  and  recollections  to  recall ;  and  while 
Everell  lingered  to  listen,  and  Hope  and  Esther,  from 
a  very  natural  sympathy,  to  witness  the  overflowings 
of  the  good  fellow's  affectionate  heart,  their  com- 
panions left  them  to  stroll  about  the  island. 

As  soon  as  his  audience  was  thus  reduced,  "  It 
seems  but  a  day,^'  he  said,  "  since  you,  Mr.  Everell, 
and  Miss  Leslie  were  but  children." 

"  And  happy  children,  Digby,  were  we  not  ?"  said 
Everell,  with  a  suppressed  sigh,  and  venturing  a  side 
glance  at  Hope ;  but  her  face  was  averted,  and  he 
could  not  see  whether  Digby  had  awakened  any  rec- 
ollections in  her  bosom  responding  to  liis  own. 

"  Happy  1  that  were  you,"  replied  Digby,  "  and 


52  HOPE    LESLIE. 

the  lovingest/'  he  continued,  little  thinking  that  ev- 
ery word  he  uttered  was  as  a  talisman  to  his  audi- 
tors, "  the  lovingest  that  ever  I  saw.  Young  folks, 
for  the  most  part,  are  like  an  April  day — clouds  and 
sunshine :  there  are  my  young  ones,  though  they 
look  so  happy  now  they  have  your  English  presents, 
Mr.  Everell,  yet  they  must  now  and  then  fall  to  their 
little  battles— show  out  the  natural  man,  as  the  min- 
isters say ;  but  with  you  and  Miss  Hope  it  was  always 
sunshine  :  it  was  not  strange,  either,  seeing  you  were 
all  in  all  to  one  another  after  that  terrible  sweep-off 
at  Bethel.  It  is  odd  what  vagaries  come  and  go  in 
a  body's  mind ;  time  was  when  I  viewed  you  as  good 
as  mated  with  Magawisca  ;  forgive  me  for  speaking 
so,  Mr.  Everell,  seeing  she  was  but  a  tawny  Indian, 
after  all." 

"  Forgive  you,  Digby !  you  do  me  honour  by  im- 
plying that  I  rightly  estimated  that  noble  creature  ; 
and  before  she  had  done  the  heroic  deed  to  which  I 
owe  my  life — yes,  Digby,  I  might  have  loved  her — 
might  have  forgotten  that  Nature  had  put  barriers 
between  us." 

"  I  don't  know  but  you  might,  Mr.  Everell,  but  I 
don't  believe  you  would ;  things  would  naturally 
have  taken  another  course  after  Miss  Hope  came 
among  us ;  and  many  a  time  I  thought  it  was  well 
it  was  as  it  was,  for  I  believe  it  would  have  broken 
Magawisca's  heart  to  have  been  put  in  that  kind  of 
eclipse  by  Miss  Leslie's  coming  between  you  and  her. 
Now  all  is  as  it  should  be ;  as  your  mother — blessed 
be  her  memory — would  have  wished,  and  your  fa- 
ther, and  all  the  world." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  53 

Digby  seemed  to  have  arranged  everything  in  his 
own  mind  according  to  what  he  deemed  natural  and 
proper;  and,  too  self-complacent  at  the  moment  to 
receive  any  check  to  his  garrulity  from  the  silence  of 
his  guests,  he  proceeded.  "  The  tree  follows  the 
bent  of  the  twig  ;  what  think  you,  Miss  Esther,  is  not 
there  a  w^edding  a  brewing  ?"  Miss  Downing  was 
silent :  Digby  looked  round,  and  saw  confusion  in 
every  face,  and,  feeling  that  he  had  ventured  on  for- 
bidden ground,  he  tried  to  stammer  out  an  apology. 
^'  I  declare,  now,"  he  said,  "  it'-s  odd — it's  a  sign  I 
grow  old  ;  but  I  quite  entirely  forgot  how  queer 
young  people  feel  about  such  things.  I  should  not 
have  blundered  on  so,  but  my  wife  put  it  into  my 
head  ;  she  is  equal  to  Nebuchadnezzar  for  dreaming 
dreams  ;  and  three  times  last  night  she  waked  me 
to  tell  me  about  her  dreaming  of  a  funeral,  and  that, 
she  said,  was  a  sure  forerunner  of  a  wedding  ;  and 
it  was  natural  I  should  go  on  thinking  whose  wed- 
ding was  coming,  was  it  not.  Miss  Esther  ?" 

Everell  turned  away  to  caress  a  chubby  boy.  Miss 
Downing  fidgeted  with  hex  bonnet-strings,  threw 
back  her  shawl,  and  disclosed  the  memorable  knot 
of  rosebuds.  If  they  had  a  meaning,  they  seemed 
also  to  have  a  voice,  and  they  roused  Hope  Leslie's 
resolution.  Some  pride  might  have  aided  her,  but 
it  was  maidenly  pride,  and  her  feelings  were  as  near 
to  pure  generosity  as  our  infirm  nature  can  approach. 

"  Digby,"  she  said,  "  it  was  quite  natural  for  you 
both  to  think  and  speak  of  Mr.  Everell's  wedding ; 
we  are  to  have  it,  and  that  right  soon,  I  hope ;  you 
E  2 


54  HOPE    LESLIE. 

have  only  mistaken  the  bride;  and  as  neither  of  the 
parties  will  speak  to  set  you  right,"  and  she  glan- 
ced her  eyes  from  Esther  to  Everell, "  why,  I  must." 

Esther  became  as  pale  as  marble.  Hope  flew  to 
her  side,  took  her  hand,  placed  it  in  Everell's,  threw 
her  arm  around  Esther,  kissed  her  cheek,  and  dart- 
ed out  of  the  house.  Digby  half  articulated  an  ex- 
pression of  disappointment  and  surprise,  and,  impell- 
ed by  an  instinct  that  told  him  this  was  not  a  scene 
for  witnesses,  he  too  disappeared. 

Never  were  two  young  people  left  in  a  more  per- 
plexing predicament.  To  Everell  it  was  a  moment 
of  indescribable  confusion  and  embarrassment.  To 
Esther,  of  overwhelming  recollections,  of  apprehen- 
sion, and  hope,  and,  above  all,  shame. 

She  would  gladly  have  buried  herself  in  the  depths 
of  the  earth.  Everell  understood  her  feelings. 
There  was  no  time  for  deliberation ;  and  with  emo- 
tions that  would  have  made  self-immolation  at  the 
moment  easy,  and  impelled,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  by 
an  irresistible  destiny,  he  said  something  about  the 
happiness  of  retaining  the  hand  he  held. 

Miss  Downing,  confused  by  her  own  feelings, 
misinterpreted  his.  She  was,  at  the  moment,  inca- 
pable of  estimating  the  disparity  between  his  few, 
broken,  disjointed,  half-uttered  words,  and  the  natu- 
ral, free,  full  expressions  of  an  ardent  and  happy 
lover.  She  only  spoke  a  few  words,  to  refer  him  to 
her  aunt  Winthrop ;  but  her  hand,  passive  in  his, 
her  burning  cheeks  and  throbbing  heart,  told  him 
what  no  third  person  could  tell,  and  what  her  tongue 
could  not  utter. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  55 

Thus  had  Hope  Leslie,  by  rashly  following  her 
first  generous  impulses,  by  giving  to  "  unproportion- 
ed  thought  its  act,"  effected  that  which  the  avowed 
tenderness  of  Miss  Downing,  the  united  instances 
of  Mr.  Fletcher  and  Governor  Winthrcp,  and  the 
whole  colony  and  world  beside,  could  never  have 
achieved.  Unconscious  of  the  mistake  by  which  she 
had  put  the  happiness  of  all  parties  concerned  in 
jeopardy,  she  was  exulting  in  her  victory  over  her- 
self, and  endeavouring  to  regain  in  solitude  the  tran- 
quilhty  w^hich  she  was  surprised  to  find  had  utterly 
forsaken  her;  and  to  convince  herself  that  the  dis- 
order of  her  spirits,  which,  in  spite  of  all  her  efforts, 
filled  her  eyes  w-ith  tears,  w^as  owing  to  the  agitating 
expectation  of  seeing  her  long-lost  sister. 

The  eastern  extremity  of  the  island,  being  shelter- 
ed by  the  high  ground  on  the  west,  was  most  favour- 
able for  horticultural  experiments,  and  had  there- 
fore been  planted  with  fruit-tiees  and  grapevines ; 
here  Hope  had  retired,  and  was  flattering  herself 
she  was  secure  from  interruption  and  observation, 
w^hen  she  w^as  startled  by  a  footstep,  and  perceived 
Sir  Philip  Gardiner  approaching.  "  I  am  fortunate 
at  last,"  he  said ;  "  I  have  just  been  vainly  seek- 
ing you,  where  I  most  unluckily  broke  in  upon 
the  lovers  at  a  moment  of  supreme  happiness,  if  I 
may  judge  from  the  faces  of  both  parties;  but  what 
are  you  doing  wdth  that  vine,  Miss  Leslie  ?"  he  con- 
tinued, for  Hope  had  stooped  over  a  grapevine, 
which  she  seemed  anxiously  arranging. 

"  I  am  merely  looking  at  it,"  she  said ;  "  it  seems 
drooping." 


56  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  Yes,  and  droop  and  die  it  must.  I  am  amazed 
that  the  wise  people  of  your  colony  should  hope  to 
rear  the  vine  in  this  cold  and  steril  land :  a  fit  cli- 
mate it  is  not  for  any  delicate  plant." 

The  knight's  emphasis  and  look  gave  a  particular 
significance  to  his  words;  but  Miss  Leslie,  deter- 
mined to  take  them  only  in  their  literal  sense,  coldly 
replied,  "  that  it  was  not  the  part  of  wisdom  to  re- 
linquish the  attempt  to  cultivate  so  valuable  a  pro- 
duction till  a  fair  experiment  had  been  made." 

"  Very  true,  Miss  Leslie.  The  governor  himself 
could  not  have  spoken  it  more  sagely.  Pardon  me 
for  smiling ;  I  was  thinking  what  an  admirable  il- 
lustration of  your  remark  your  friend  Miss  Downing 
afforded  you.  Who  would  have  hoped  to  rear  such 
a  hot-bed  plant  as  love  amid  her  frosts  and  ice? 
Nay,  look  not  so  reproachfully.  I  admit  there  are 
analogies  in  nature ;  in  my  rambles  in  the  Alpine 
country,  I  have  seen  herbage  and  flowers  fringing 
the  very  borders  of  perpetual  snows." 

"  Your  analogy  does  not  suit  the  case.  Sir  Philip," 
replied  Miss  Leslie,  coldly ;  "  but  I  marvel  not  at 
your  ignorance  of  my  friend ;  the  waters  gushed 
from  the  rock  only  at  the  prophet's  touch — "  Hope 
hesitated ;  she  felt  that  her  rejoinder  w^as  too  per- 
sonal, and  she  added,  in  a  tone  of  calmer  defence, 
"surely  she  who  has  shown  herself  capable  of  the 
fervour  of  devotion  and  the  tenderness  of  friendship, 
may  be  susceptible  of  an  inferior  passion." 

"  Most  certainly ;  and  your  philosophy,  fair  rea- 
soner,  agrees  with  experience  and  poetry.    An  old 


HOPE    LESLIE.  57 

French  lay  well  sets  forth  the  harmony  between  the 
passions ;  thus  it  runs,  I  think  3"  and  he  trilled  the 
following  stanzas  : 

"  *  Et  pour  verite  vous  record 

Dieu  et  amour  sont  d'un  accord, 

Dieu  aime  sens  et  honorance, 

Amour  ne  I'a  pas  en  viltance  ; 

Dieu  halt  orgueil  et  faussete, 

Et  Amour  aime  loyaute ;  ^  . 

Dieu  aime  honneur  et  courtoisie 

Et  bonne  Amour  ne  hait-il  mie ; 

Dieu  ecoute  belle  priere, 

Amour  ne  la  met  pas  arriere.'  " 

Sir  Philip  dropped  on  his  knee,  and,  seizing  Hope's 
hand,  repeated, 

"  *  Dieu  ecoute  belle  priere, 

Amour  ne  le  met  pas  en  arriere.'  " 

At  this  moment,  when  Hope  stood  stock  still  from 
surprise,  confusion,  and  displeasure,  Everell  crossed 
the  walk.  The  colour  mounted  to  his  cheeks  and 
temples,  he  quickened  his  footsteps,  and  almost  in- 
stantly disappeared.  This  apparition,  instead  of 
augmenting  Miss  Leslie's  embarrassment,  restored 
all  her  powers.  "  Reserve  your  gallantries.  Sir 
Philip,"  she  said,  quietly  withdrawing  her  hand, 
"  and  your  profane  verses  for  some  subject  to  whom 
they  are  better  suited  ;  if  you  have  aught  of  the  spirit 
of  a  gentleman  in  you,  you  must  feel  that  I  have 
neither  invited  the  one  nor  provoked  the  other." 

Sir  Philip  rose,  mortified  and  disconcerted,  and 
suffered  Miss  Leslie  to  walk  slowly  away  from  him 
without  uttering  a  word  to  urge  or  defend  his  suit. 
He  would  have  been  better  pleased  if  he  had  exci- 


58  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ted  more  emotion  of  any  sort ;  he  thought  he  had 
never  seen  her,  on  any  occasion,  so  cahn  and  indif- 
ferent. He  was  piqued,  as  a  man  of  gallantry,  to 
be  thus  contemptuously  repelled ;  and  he  was  vexed 
with  himself  that,  by  a  false  step,  he  had  retarded, 
perhaps  endangered,  the  final  success  of  his  projects. 
He  had  been  too  suddenly  elated  by  the  removal  of 
Jiis  rival ;  he  deemed  his  path  quite  clear  ;  and,  with 
due  allowance  for  natural  presumption  and  self-love, 
it  was  not  perhaps  strange  that  an  accomplished  man 
of  the  world  should,  in  Sir  Philip's  circumstances, 
have  counted  sanguinely  on  success. 

He  remained  pulling  a  rose  to  pieces,  as  a  sort  of 
accompaniment  to  his  vexed  thoughts,  when  Mrs. 
Grafton  made  an  untimely  appearance  before  him. 
"  Ah  ha !"  she  said,  picking  up  a  bracelet  Hope  had 
unconsciously  dropped, "  I  see  who  has  been  here — 
I  thought  so  J  but.  Sir  Philip,  you  look  downcast." 
Sir  Philip,  accustomed  as  he  was  to  masquerade, 
had  not  been  able  to  veil  his  feelings  even  from  the 
good  dame,  whose  perceptions  were  neither  quick 
nor  keen  ;  but  what  was  defective  in  them  she  made 
up  in  abundant  good-nature.  "  Now,  Sir  Philip," 
she  said,  "  there  is  nothing  but  the  wind  so  change- 
ful as  a  woman's  mind ;  that's  what  everybody  says, 
and  there  is  both  good  and  bad  in  it :  for  if  the  wind 
is  dead  ahead,  we  may  look  for  it  to  turn." 

Sir  Philip  bowed  his  assent  to  the  truism,  and  se- 
cretly prayed  that  the  good  lady  might  be  just  in  her 
application  of  it.  Mrs.  Grafton  continued  :  "  Now, 
what  have  you  been  doing  with  that  rose,  Sir  Phil- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  69 

ip  ?  one  would  think  it  had  done  you  an  ill  turn,  by 
your  picking  it  to  pieces  ;  I  hope  you  did  not  follow 
Everell's  fashion  ;  such  a  way  of  expressing  one's 
ideas  should  be  left  to  boys."  Sir  Philip  most  heart- 
ily wished  that  he  had  left  his  sentiments  to  be  con- 
veyed by  so  prudent  and  delicate  an  interpreter; 
but,  determined  to  give  no  aid  to  Mrs.  Grafton's  con- 
jectures, he  threw  away  the  rose-stem,  and,  pluck- 
ing another,  presented  it  to  her,  saying  that  "he 
hoped  she  would  not  extend  her  proscription  of  the 
language  of  flowers  so  far  as  to  prevent  their  ex- 
pressing his  regard  for  her." 

The  good  lady  courtesied,  and  said  "how  much  Sir 
Philip's  ways  did  remind  her  of  her  dear  deceased 
husband." 

The  knight  constrained  himself  to  say  "  that  he 
was  highly  flattered  by  being  thus  honourably  asso- 
ciated in  her  thoughts." 

"  And  you  may  well  be.  Sir  Philip,"  she  replied, 
in  the  honesty  of  her  heart,  "  for  my  poor  dear  Mr. 
Grafton  was  called  the  most  elegant  man  of  his 
time ;  and  the  best  of  husbands  he  proved ;  for,  as 
Shakspeare  says,  '  He  never  let  the  winds  of  heaven 
visit  me.' "  She  paused  to  wipe  away  a  genuine 
tear,  and  then  continued  :  "  It  was  not  for  such  a  man 
to  be  disheartened  because  a  woman  seemed  a  little 
offish  at  first.  JVil  desperandum  was  his  motto  ;  and 
he,  poor  dear  man,  had  so  many  rivals !  Here,  you 
know,  the  case  is  quite  different.  If  anybody  were 
to  fall  in  love  with  anybody — I  am  only  making  a 
supposition,  Sir  Philip — there  is  nobody  here  but 


60  HOPE    LESLIE. 

these  stiff- starched  Puritans — a  thousand  pardons, 
Sir  Philip ;  I  forgot  you  was  one  of  them.  Indeed, 
you  seem  so  little  like  them  that  I  am  always  forget- 
ting it." 

Sir  Philip  dared  not  trust  Mrs.  Grafton's  discre- 
tion so  far  as  to  cast  off  his  disguises  before  her,  but 
he  ventured  to  say  that  "  some  of  his  brethren  were 
over-zealous." 

"  Ay,  ay,  quite  too  zealous,  aren't  they  1  a  kind 
of  mint,  anise,  and  cummin  Christians." 

Sir  Philip  smiled :  "  He  hoped  not  to  err  in  that 
particular ;  he  must  confess  a  leaning  of  the  heart  to- 
wards his  old  habits  and  feelings." 

"  Quite  natural ;  and  I  trust  you  will  finally  lean 
so  far  as  to  fall  into  them  again,  all  in  good  time ; 
but,  as  I  was  saying,  skittishness  isn't  a  bad  sign  in 
a  young  woman.  It  was  a  long,  long  time  before  I 
gave  poor  dear  Mr.  Grafton  the  first  token  of  favour ; 
and  what  do  you  surmise  that  was,  Sir  Philip  ?  Now 
just  guess ;  it  was  a  trick  of  fancy  really  worth  know- 
ing." 

Sir  Philip  was  wearied  beyond  measure  with  the 
old  lady's  garrulity ;  but  he  said,  with  all  the  com- 
plaisance he  could  assume,  "  That  he  could  not 
guess ;  the  ingenuity  of  a  lady's  favour  baflSed  con- 
jecture." 

"  I  thought  you  would  not  guess ;  well,  I'll  tell 
you.  There's  a  little  history  to  it,  but,  luckily,  we've 
plenty  of  time  on  hand.  Well,  to  begin  at  the  be- 
ginning, you  must  know  I  had  a  fan — a  French  fan 
I  think  it  was  3  there  were  two  Cupids  painted  on 


HOPE    LESLIE.  61 

it,  and  exactly  in  the  middle,  between  them,  a  fig- 
ure of  Hope — I  don't  mean  Hope  Leslie,"  she  con- 
tinued, for  she  saw  the  knight's  eye  suddenly  glan- 
cing towards  the  head  of  the  walk,  past  which  Miss 
Leslie  was  just  walking,  in  earnest  conversation  with 
Everell  Fletcher. 

Sir  Philip  felt  the  urgent  necessity,  at  this  juncture 
of  affairs,  of  preventing,  if  possible,  a  confidential 
communication  between  Miss  Leslie  and  Fletcher; 
and  his  face  expressed  unequivocally  that  he  was  no 
longer  listening  to  Mrs.  Grafton. 

"  Do  you  hear.  Sir  Philip  ?'  she  continued  ',  "  I 
don't  mean  Hope  Leslie.'^ 

"  So  I  understand,  madam,"  replied  the  knight, 
keeping  his  face  towards  her,  but  receding  rapidly 
in  the  direction  Miss  Leslie  had  passed,  till,  almost 
beyond  the  sound  of  her  voice,  he  laid  his  hand  on 
his  heart,  bowed,  and  disappeared. 

"  Well,  that  is  peculiar  of  Sir  Philip,"  muttered 
the  good  lady ;  then,  suddenly  turning  to  Cradock, 
who  appeared  making  his  way  through  some  snarl- 
ed bushes,  "  What  is  the  matter  now.  Master  Cra- 
dock 1"  she  asked.  Cradock  rephed  by  informing 
her  that  the  tide  served  for  their  return  to  town,  and 
that  the  governor  had  made  it  his  particular  request 
that  there  might  be  no  delay. 

Mrs.  Grafton's  spirit  was  always  refractor}^  to  or- 
ders from  headquarters ;  but  she  was  too  discreet  or 
too  timid  for  any  overt  act  of  disobedience,  and  she 
gave  her  arm  to  Cradock,  and  hastened  to  the  ap* 
pointed  rendezvous. 

Vol,  IT.—F 


62  HOPE    LESLIE. 

When  Sir  Philip  had  emerged  from  the  walk,  he 
perceived  the  parties  he  pursued  at  no  great  dis- 
tance from  him,  and  was  observed  by  Hope,  who  im- 
mediately, and  manifestly  to  avoid  him,  motioned  to 
Everell  to  take  a  path  which  diverged  from  that 
which  led  to  the  boat,  to  which  they  were  now  all 
summoned  by  a  loud  call  from  the  boatmen. 

We  must  leave  the  knight  to  digest  his  vexation, 
and  follow  our  heroine,  whose  face  could  now  claim 
nothing  of  the  apathy  that  had  mortified  Sir  Philip. 

"  You  are,  then,  fixed  in  your  determination  to  re- 
main on  the  island  to-night  ]"  demanded  Fletcher. 

"  Unalterably." 

"  And  is  Digby  also  to  have  the  honour  of  Sir 
Philip's  company  V 

"  Everell !"  exclaimed  Hope,  in  a  tone  that  indi- 
cated surprise  and  wounded  feehng. 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Leslie." 

"  Miss  Leslie  again  !  Everell,  you  are  unkind ; 
you  but  this  moment  promised  you  would  speak  to 
me  as  you  were  wont  to  do." 

"  I  would,  Hope  :  my  heart  has  but  one  language 
for  you,  but  I  dare  not  trust  my  lips.  I  may — T  must 
now  speak  to  you  as  a  brother  ;  and,  before  we  part, 
let  me  address  a  caution  to  you  which  that  sacred, 
and,  thank  God,  permitted  love,  dictates.  My  own 
destiny  is  fixed — fixed  by  your  act,  Hope ;  Heaven 
forgive  me  for  saying  so.  It  is  done.  For  myself, 
I  can  endure  anything,  but  I  could  not  live  to  see 
you  the  prey  of  a  hollow-hearted  adventurer."  The 
truth  flashed  on  Hope :  she  was  beloved — she  loved 


HOPE    LESLIE.  63 

again — and  she  had  rashly  dashed  away  the  happi- 
ness within  her  grasp.  Her  head  became  dizzy  ; 
she  stopped,  and,  gathering  her  veil  over  her  face, 
leaned  against  a  tree  for  support.  Everell  grievous- 
ly misunderstood  her  agitation. 

"  Hope,"  he  said,  with  a  faltering  voice,  "  I  have 
been  slow  to  believe  that  you  could  thus  throw  away 
your  heart.  I  tried  to  shut  my  eyes  against  that 
strange  Saturday  night's  walk — that  mysterious,  un- 
explained assignation  with  a  stranger  ;  knowing,  as 
I  did,  that  his  addresses  had  received  the  governor's 
full  approbation — my  father's,  my  poor  father's  re- 
luctant assent,  I  still  trusted  that  your  pure  heart 
would  have  revolted  from  his  flatteries.  I  believe 
he  is  a  heartless  hypocrite.  I  would  have  told  you 
so,  but  I  was  too  proud  to  have  my  warning  attribu- 
ted, even  for  a  moment,  to  the  meanness  of  a  jealous 
rival.  I  have  been  accused  of  seeking  you  from — " 
interested  motives  he  would  have  added,  but  it  seem- 
ed as  if  the  words  blistered  his  tongue ;  and  he  con- 
cluded, "  It  matters  not  now ;  now  I  may  speak 
freely,  without  distrusting  myself  or  being  distrusted 
by  others.  Hope,  you  have  cast  away  my  earthly 
happiness ;  trifle  not  with  your  own." 

Hope  perceived  that  events,  conspiring  with  her 
own  thoughtless  conduct,  had  riveted  Everell's  mis- 
take ;  but  it  was  now  irremediable.  There  was  no 
middle  path  between  a  passive  submission  to  her 
fate  and  a  full  and  now  useless  explanation.  She 
was  aware  that  plighted  friendship  and  troth  were 
staked  on  the  resolution  of  the  moment  3  and  when 


64  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Everell  added,  "  Oh !  I  have  Jjeen  convinced  against 
my  will — against  my  hopes  :  what  visions  of  possible 
felicity  have  you  dispersed;  what  dreams — " 

"  Dreams — dreams  all,"  she  exclaimed,  interrupt- 
ing him  ;  and,  throwing  back  her  veil,  she  discover- 
ed her  face  drenched  with  tears.  "  Hark  !  they  call 
you :  let  the  past  be  forgotten ;  and  for  the  future — 
the  future,  Everell — all  possible  felicity  does  await 
you  if  you  are  true  to  yourself — true  to — "  her  voice 
faltered,  but  she  articulated  "  Esther ;"  and,  turning 
away,  she  escaped  from  his  sight  as  she  would  have 
rushed  from  the  brink  of  a  precipice. 

"  Oh  !"  thought  Everell,  as  his  eye  and  heart  fol- 
lowed her  with  the  fervid  feeling  of  love,  "  oh  !  that 
one  who  seems  all  angel  should  have  so  much  of 
woman's  weakness  !"  While  he  lingered  for  a  mo- 
ment to  subdue  his  emotion,  and  fit  him  to  appear 
before  Esther  and  less  interested  observers.  Sir  Phil- 
ip joined  him,  apparently  returning  from  the  boat. 
"  Your  friends  stay  for  you,  sir,"  he  said,  and  passed 
on. 

"  Then  he  does  remain  with  her,"  concluded  Ev- 
erell ;  and  the  conviction  was  forced  more  strongly 
than  ever  on  his  mind,  that  Hope  had  lent  a  favour- 
able ear  to  Sir  Philip's  suit.  "  The  illusion  must  be 
transient,"  he  thought ;  "  vanity  cannot  have  a  last- 
ing triumph  over  the  noble  sentiments  of  her  pure 
heart."  This  was  the  language  of  his  affection ;  but 
we  must  confess  that  the  ardour  of  his  confidence  was 
abated  by  Miss  Leslie's  apparently  wide  departure 
from  delicate  reserve,  in  permitting  (as  he  believed 


HOPE    LESLIE.  65 

she  had)  her  professed  admirer  to  remain  on  the  isl- 
and with  her. 

He  now  hastened  to  the  boat,  in  the  hope  that  he 
should  hear  some  explanation  of  this  extraordinary- 
arrangement  ;  but  no  such  consolation  awaited  him. 
On  the  contrary,  he  found  it  a  subject  of  speculation 
to  the  whole  party.  Faithful  Cradock  expressed 
simple  amazement.  Mrs.  Grafton  was  divided  be- 
tween her  pleasure  in  the  probable  success  of  her 
secret  wishes,  and  her  consciousness  of  the  obvious 
impropriety  of  her  niece's  conduct ;  and  her  flurried 
and  half-articulated  efforts  at  explanation  only  serv- 
ed, like  a  feeble  light,  to  make  the  darkness  visible ; 
and  Esther's  downcast  and  tearful  eye  intimated  her 
concern  and  mortification  for  her  friend. 
F  2 


66  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

«  The  sisters'  vows,  the  hours  that  we  have  spent, 
When  we  have  chid  the  hasty-footed  time 
For  parting  us— oh,  and  is  all  forgot?" 

Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

On  quitting  Everell,  our  heroine,  quite  unconscious 
that  she  was  the  subject  of  painful  suspicion  or  af- 
fectionate anxiety,  sought  a  sequestered  spot,  where 
she  might  indulge  and  tranquillize  her  feelings. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  love  of  a  brother  and 
sister  is  the  only  platonic  affection.  This  truth  (if  it 
be  a  truth)  is  the  conviction  of  an  experience  far 
beyond  our  heroine's.  She  had  seen  in  Esther  the 
pangs  of  repressed  and  unrequited  love,  and,  mista- 
king them  for  the  characteristic  emotions  of  that  sen- 
timent, it  was  no  wonder  that  she  perceived  no  affinity 
to  it  in  the  joyous  affection  that  had  animated  her  own 
soul.  "After  a  Uttle  while,"  she  said,  "I  shall  feel 
as  I  did  when  w^e  lived  together  in  Bethel ;  if  all 
that  I  love  are  happy,  I  must  be  happy  too."  If 
the  cold  and  selfish  laugh  to  scorn  what  they  think 
the  reasoning  of  ignorance  and  inexperience,  it  is 
because  they  have  never  felt  that  to  meditate  the 
happiness  of  others  is  to  enter  upon  the  ministry  and 
the  joy  of  celestial  spirits.  Not  one  envious  or  repi- 
ning thought  intruded  into  the  heaven  of  Hope  Les- 
lie's mind.  Not  one  malignant  spirit  passed  the 
bounds  of  that  paradise,  that  was  filled  with  pure 


HOPE    LESLIE.  67 

and  tender  affections,  with  projects  of  goodness,  and 
all  their  cheerful  train. 

Hope  was  longer  absorbed  in  her  revery  than 
perhaps  was  quite  consistent  with  her  philosophy ; 
and  when  she  was  roused  from  it  by  Digby's  voice, 
she  blushed  from  the  consciousness  that  her  thoughts 
had  been  too  long  withdrawn  from  the  purpose  of 
her  visit  to  the  island.  Digby  came  to  say  that  his 
wife's  supper-table  was  awaiting  Miss  Leslie.  Hope 
embraced  the  opportunity,  as  they  walked  together 
towards  his  dwelling,  to  make  her  arrangements  for 
the  evening.  "  Digby,"  she  said,  "  I  have  some- 
thing to  confide  to  you,  but  you  must  ask  me  no 
questions." 

"  That's  crossing  human  nature,"  replied  the  good 
fellow ;  "  but  I  think  I  can  swim  against  the  current 
for  you.  Miss  Hope." 

"Thank  you,  Digby.  Then,  in  the  first  place, 
you  must  know,  I  expect  some  friends  to  meet  me 
here  this  evening  ;  all  that  I  ask  of  you  is  to  permit 
me  to  remain  out  unmolested  as  long  as  I  may 
choose.  You  may  tell  your  wife  that  I  like  to  stroll 
in  the  garden  by  moonlight,  or  to  sit  and  listen  to 
the  waves  breaking  on  the  shore — as  you  know  I 
do,  Digby." 

"Yes,  Miss  Hope,  I  know  your  heart  always 
linked  into  such  things  ^  but  it  will  be  heathen 
Greek  to  my  w^ife — so  you  must  make  out  a  better 
reason  for  her." 

"  Then  tell  her  that  I  like  to  have  my  own  way." 

"Ah,  that  will  I,"  replied  Digby,  chuckling; 


68  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  that  is  what  every  woman  can  understand.  I  al- 
ways said,  Miss  Hope,  it  was  a  pure  mercy  you 
chose  the  right  way,  for  you  always  had  yours." 

"Perhaps  you  think,  Digby,  I  have  been  too 
headstrong  in  my  own  way." 

"  Oh,  no !  my  sweet  mistress,  no  ;  why,  this  hav- 
ing our  own  Avay  is  what  everybody  likes  ;  it's  the 
privilege  we  came  to  this  wilderness  world  for ;  and 
though  the  gentles  up  in  town  there,  with  the  gov- 
ernor at  their  head,  hold  a  pretty  tight  rein,  yet  I 
can  tell  them  that  there  are  many  who  think  what 
blunt  Master  Blackstone  said,  *  That  he  came  not 
away  from  the  Lord's-bishops  to  put  himself  under 
the  Lord's-brethren.'  No,  no,  Miss  Hope,  I  watch 
the  motions  of  the  straws — I  know  which  way  the 
wind  blows.  Thought  and  will  are  set  free.  It  was 
but  the  other  day,  so  to  speak — in  the  days  of  good 
Queen  Bess,  as  they  called  her — when,  if  her  majes- 
ty did  but  raise  her  hand,  the  Parliament  folk  were 
all  down  on  their  knees  to  her ;  and  now,  thank 
God,  the  poorest  and  the  lowest  of  us  only  kneel  to 
Him  who  made  us.  Times  are  changed — there  is  a 
new  spirit  in  the  world — chains  are  broken — fetters 
are  knocked  off — and  the  liberty  set  forth  in  the 
blessed  Word  is  now  felt  to  be  every  man's  birth- 
right. But  shame  on  my  prating,  that  wags  so  fast 
when  I  might  hear  your  nightingale  voice." 

Hope's  mind  was  preoccupied,  and  she  found  it 
difficult  to  listen  to  Digby's  speculations  with  inter- 
est, or  to  respond  with  animation ;  but  she  was  too 
benignant  to  lose  herself  in  sullen  abstraction  j  and, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  69 

when  they  arrived  at  the  cottage,  she  roused  her 
faculties  to  amuse  the  children,  and  to  listen  to  the 
mother's  stories  of  their  promising  smartness.  She 
commended  the  good  wife's  milk  and  cakes,  and  sat 
for  half  an  hour  after  the  table  was  removed,  talking 
of  the  past,  and  brightening  the  future  prospects  of 
her  good  friends  with  predictions  of  their  children's 
prosperity  and  respectability :  predictions  which, 
Digby  afterward  said,  the  dear  young  lady's  bounty 
brought  to  pass. 

Suddenly  she  sprang  from  her  chair :  "  Digby," 
she  exclaimed,  "  I  think  the  east  is  lighting  up  with 
the  rising  moon — is  it  not  ?" 

"  If  it  is  'not,  it  soon  will,"  replied  Digby,  under- 
standing and  favouring  her  purpose. 

"  Then,"  said  Hope,  "  I  will  take  a  walk  round 
the  island ;  and  do  not  you,  Betsy,  sit  up  for  me." 
Betsy,  of  course,  remonstrated.  The  night  air  was 
unwholesome  ;  and,  though  the  sky  overhead  was 
clear,  yet  she  had  heard  distant  thunder  ;  the  beach- 
birds  had  been  in  flocks  on  shore  all  the  day ;  and 
the  breakers  on  the  east  side  of  the  island  made  a 
boding  sound.  These  and  other  signs  were  urged 
as  arguments  against  the  unseasonable  walk.  Of 
course  they  were  unheeded  by  our  heroine,  who,  de- 
claring that,  with  shelter  so  near,  she  was  in  no  dan- 
ger, muffled  herself  in  her  cloak  and  sallied  forth. 
She  bent  her  steps  around  the  cliff  which  rises  at  the 
western  extremity  of  the  island,  leaving  at  its  base 
a  few  yards  of  flat,  rocky  shore,  around  which  the 
waters  of  the  bay  sweep,  deeply  indenting  it,  and 


70  HOPE    LESLIE. 

forming  a  natural  cove  or  harbour  for  small  boats. 
As  Hope  passed  around  a  ledge  of  rocks,  she  fancied 
she  saw  a  shadow  cast  by  a  figure  that  seemed  fly- 
ing before  her.  "  They  are  here  already,"  she 
thought,  and  hastened  forward,  expecting  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  them  as  soon  as  she  should  turn  the  angle 
of  the  rock ;  but  no  figure  appeared ;  and  though 
Hope  imagined  she  heard  stones  rattling,  as  if  dis- 
placed by  hurried  steps,  she  was  soon  convinced  the 
sound  was  accidental.  Alive  only  to  one  expecta- 
tion, she  seated  herself,  without  any  apprehension,  to 
await  in  this  solitude  the  coming  of  her  sister. 

The  moon  rose  unclouded,  and  sent  her  broad 
stream  of  light  across  the  beautiful  bay,  kindling  in 
her  beams  the  islands  that  gemmed  it,  and  disclo- 
sing, with  a  dim,  indefinite  hght,  the  distant  town, 
rising  over  this  fair  domain  of  sea  and  land  :  hills, 
heights,  jutting  points,  and  islands  then  unknown  to 
fame,  but  now  consecrated  in  domestic  annals,  and 
illustrious  in  the  patriot's  story. 

Whatever  charms  the  scene  might  have  presented 
to  our  heroine's  eye  at  another  moment,  she  was  now 
only  conscious  of  one  emotion  of  feverish  impatience. 
She  gazed  and  listened  till  her  senses  ached ;  and 
at  last,  when  anticipation  had  nearly  yielded  to  de- 
spair, her  ear  caught  the  dash  of  oars,  and  at  the 
next  moment  a  canoe  glanced  around  the  headland 
into  the  cove  :  she  darted  to  the  brink  of  the  water 
— she  gazed  intently  on  the  little  bark ;  her  whole 
soul  was  in  that  look.  Her  sister  was  there.  At 
this  first  assurance  that  she  really  beheld  this  loved, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  71 

lost  sister,  Hope  uttered  a  scream  of  joy ;  but  when, 
at  a  second  glance,  she  saw  her  in  her  savage  attire, 
fondly  leaning  on  Oneco's  shoulder,  her  heart  died 
within  her ;  a  sickening  feeling  came  over  her — an 
unthought  of  revolting  of  nature ;  and,  instead  of 
obeying  the  first  impulse,  and  springing  forward  to 
clasp  her  in  her  arms,  she  retreated  to  the  cliff,  lean- 
ed her  head  against  it,  averted  her  eyes,  and  pressed 
her  hands  on  her  heart,  as  if  she  would  have  bound 
down  her  rebel  feelings. 

Magawisca's  voice  aroused  her.  "  Hope  Leslie," 
she  said,  "  take  thy  sister^s  hand." 

Hope  stretched  out  her  hand  without  lifting  her 
eyes ;  but  when  she  felt  her  sister's  touch,  the  ener- 
gies of  nature  awoke;  she  threw  her  arms  around 
her,  folded  her  to  her  bosom,  laid  her  cheek  on  hers, 
and  wept  as  if  her  heart  would  burst  in  every  sob. 

Mary  (we  use  the  appellative  by  which  Hope  had 
known  her  sister)  remained  passive  in  her  arms. 
Her  eye  was  moistened,  but  she  seemed  rather  abash- 
ed and  confounded  than  excited;  and  when  Hope 
released  her,  she  turned  towards  Oneco  with  a  look 
of  simple  wonder.  Hope  again  threw  her  arm  around 
her  sister,  and  intently  explored  her  face  for  some 
trace  of  those  infantine  features  that  were  impressed 
on  her  memory.  "  It  is — it  is  my  sister  !"  she  ex- 
claimed, and  kissed  her  cheek  again  and  again. 
"  Oh,  Mary !  do  you  not  remember  when  we  sat  to- 
gether on  mother's  knee  ?  Do  you  not  remember 
when,  with  her  own  burning  hand,  the  very  day  she 
died,  she  put  those  chains  on  our  necks  ?     Do  you 


72  HOPE    LESLIE. 

not  remember  when  they  held  us  up  to  kiss  her  cold 
lips  ?"  Mary  looked  towards  Magawisca  for  an  ex- 
planation of  her  sister's  words.  "  Look  at  me,  Mary ; 
speak  to  me,"  continued  Hope. 

"  No  speak  Yengees,"  replied  Mary,  exhausting 
in  this  brief  sentence  all  the  English  she  could  com- 
mand. 

Hope,  in  the  impetuosity  of  her  feelings,  had  for- 
gotten that  Magawisca  had  forew^arned  her  not  to 
indulge  the  expectation  that  her  sister  could  speak 
to  her ;  and  the  melancholy  truth,  announced  by  her 
own  lips,  seemed  to  Hope  to  open  a  new  and  im- 
passable gulf  between  them.  She  wrung  her  hands : 
«  Oh,  what  shall  I  do  ?  what  shall  I  say  ?"  she  ex- 
claimed. 

Magav/isca  now  advanced  to  her,  and  said,  in  a 
compassionate  tone,  "  Let  me  be  thy  interpreter, 
Hope  Leslie,  and  be  thou  more  calm.  Dost  thou 
not  see  thy  sister  is  to  thee  as  the  feather  borne  on 
the  torrent  ?" 

"  I  will  be  more  calm,  Magawisca ;  but  promise 
me  you  will  interpret  truly  for  me." 

A  blush  of  offended  pride  overspread  Magaw^isca's 
cheek.  "  We  hold  truth  to  be  the  health  of  the 
soul,"  she  said :  "  thou  mayst  speak,  maiden,  with- 
out fear  that  I  wdll  abate  one  of  thy  words." 

"  Oh,  I  fear  nothing  wrong  from  you,  Magawisca ; 
forgive  me — forgive  me — I  know  not  what  I  say 
or  do."  She  drew  her  sister  to  a  rock,  and  they  sat 
down  together.  Hope  knew  not  how  to  address 
one  so  near  to  her  by  nature,  so  far  removed  by  habit 


HOPE    LESLIE.  73 

and  education.  She  thought  that  if  Mary's  dress, 
which  was  singularly  and  gaudily  decorated,  had  a 
less  savage  aspect,  she  might  look  more  natural  to 
her  'j  and  she  signed  to  her  to  remove  the  mantle 
she  wore,  made  of  birds'  feathers,  woven  together 
wdth  threads  of  the  wild  nettle.  Mary  threw  it 
aside,  and  disclosed  her  person,  light  and  agile  as 
a  fawn's,  clothed  with  skins,  neatly  fitted  to  her  waist 
and  arms,  and  ambitiously  embellished  with  em- 
broidery in  porcupine's  quills  and  beads.  The  re- 
moval of  the  mantle,  instead  of  the  effect  designed, 
only  served  to  make  more  striking  the  aboriginal  pe- 
culiarities; and  Hope,  shuddering  and  heart-sick, 
made  one  more  effort  to  disguise  them  by  taking  off 
her  silk  cloak  and  wrapping  it  close  around  her  sis- 
ter. Mary  seemed  instantly  to  comprehend  the  lan- 
guage of  the  action ;  she  shook  her  head,  gently 
disengaged  herself  from  the  cloak,  and  resumed  her 
mantle.  An  involuntary  exclamation  of  triumph 
burst  from  Oneco's  lips.  "  Oh,  tell  her,"  said  Hope 
to  ]\Iagawisca,  "  that  I  want  once  more  to  see  her  in 
the  dress  of  her  own  people — of  her  own  family — 
from  whose  arms  she  was  torn  to  be  dragged  into 
captivity." 

A  faint  smile  curled  Magawisca's  lip,  but  she  in- 
terpreted faithfully  Hope's  communication  and  Ma- 
ry's reply :  "  ^  She  does  not  hke  the  English  dress,' 
she  says." 

"  Ask  her,"  said  Hope,  "  if  she  remembers  the 
day  when  the  wild  Indians  sprung  upon  the  family 
at  Bethel  like  wolves  upon  a  fold  of  lambs  ?     If  she 

Vol.  IL— G 


T4  HOPE    LESLIE. 

remembers  when  Mrs.  Fletcher  and  her  innocent 
little  ones  were  murdered,  and  she  stolen  away  ?" 

"  She  says  '  she  remembers  it  well,  for  then  it 
was  Oneco  saved  her  life.'  " 

Hope  groaned  aloud.  "  Ask  her,"  she  continued, 
with  unabated  eagerness,  "  if  she  remembers  when 
we  played  together,  and  read  together,  and  knelt 
together  at  our  mother's  feet ;  when  she  told  us  of 
the  God  that  made  us,  and  the  Saviour  that  redeem- 
ed us?" 

"  She  remembers  something  of  all  this,  but  she 
says  '  it  is  faint  and  distant,  like  the  vanishing  va- 
pour on  the  far-off  mountain.'  " 

"  Oh,  tell  her,  Magawisca,  if  she  will  come  home 
and  live  with  me,  I  will  devote  my  life  to  her.  I 
will  watch  over  her  in  sickness  and  health.  I  will 
be  mother — sister — friend  to  her :  tell  her  that  our 
mother,  now  a  saint  in  heaven,  stoops  from  her  hap- 
py place  to  entreat  her  to  return  to  our  God  and 
our  father's  God." 

Mary  shook  her  head  in  a  manner  indicative  of  a 
more  determined  feeling  than  she  had  before  mani- 
fested, and  took  from  her  bosom  a  crucifix,  which 
she  fervently  pressed  to  her  lips. 

Every  motive  Hope  offered  was  powerless,  every 
mode  of  entreaty  useless,  and  she  leaned  her  head 
despondently  on  Mary's  shoulder.  The  contrast  be- 
tween the  two  faces  thus  brought  together  was  most 
striking.  Hope's  hat  had  slipped  back,  and  her  rich 
brown  tresses  fell  about  her  neck  and  face ;  her  full 
eye  was  intently  fixed  on   Mary,  and  her  cheek 


HOPE    LESLIE.  75 

glowing  with  impassioned  feeling,  she  looked  like  an 
angel  touched  with  some  mortal  misery ;  while  Ma- 
ry's face,  pale  and  spiritless,  was  only  redeemed 
from  absolute  vacancy  by  an  expression  of  gentle- 
ness and  modesty.  Hope's  hand  was  lying  on  her 
sister's  lap,  and  a  brilliant  diamond  ring  caught 
Mary's  attention.  Hope  perceived  this,  and  instant- 
ly drew  it  from  her  own  finger  and  placed  it  on 
Mary's ;  "  and  here  is  another — and  another — and 
another,"  she  cried,  making  the  same  transfer  of  all 
her  rings.  "  Tell  her,  Magawisca,  if  she  will  come 
home  with  me,  she  shall  be  decked  with  jewels  from 
head  to  foot ;  she  shall  have  feathers  from  the  most 
beautiful  birds  that  wing  the  air,  and  flowers  that 
never  fade :  tell  her  that  all  I  possess  shall  be  hers." 

"  Shall  I  tell  her  so  ?"  asked  Magawisca,  with  a 
mingled  expression  of  contempt  and  concern,  as  if 
she  herself  despised  the  lure,  but  feared  that  Mary 
might  be  caught  by  it ;  for  the  pleased  girl  was 
holding  her  hand  before  her,  turning  it,  and  gazing 
with  childlike  dehght  on  the  gems,  as  they  caught 
and  reflected  the  moonbeams.  "  Shall  I  ask  your 
sister  to  barter  truth  and  love — the  jewels  of  the 
soul,  that  grow  brighter  and  brighter  in  the  land  of 
spirits — for  these  poor  perishing  trifles  1  Oh,  Hope 
Leslie,  I  had  better  thoughts  of  thee." 

"  I  cannot  help  it,  Magawisca  ;  I  am  driven  to 
try  every  way  to  win  back  my  sister :  tell  her,  I  en- 
treat you,  tell  her  what  I  have  said." 

Magawisca  faithfully  repeated  all  the  motives 
Hope  had  urged,  while  Hope  herself  clasped  her  sis- 


76  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ter's  hand,  and  looked  in  her  face  with  a  mute  sup- 
plication more  earnest  than  words  could  express. 
Mary  hesitated,  and  her  eye  turned  quickly  to  Oneco, 
to  Magawisca,  and  then  again  rested  on  her  sister. 
Hope  felt  her  hand  tremble  in  hers ;  Mary,  for  the 
first  time,  bent  towards  her,  and  laid  her  cheek  to 
Hope's.  Hope  uttered  a  scream  of  delight :  "  Oh, 
she  does  not  refuse ;  she  will  stay  with  me,"  she  ex- 
claimed. Mary  understood  the  exclamation,  and 
suddenly  recoiled,  and  hastily  drew  the  rings  from 
her  fingers.  "  Keep  them — keep  them,"  said  Hope, 
bursting  into  tears ;  "  if  we  must  be  cruelly  parted 
again,  they  will  sometimes  speak  to  you  of  me." 

At  this  moment  a  bright  light,  as  of  burning  flax, 
flamed  up  from  the  cliff  before  them,  threw  a  mo- 
mentary flash  over  the  water,  and  then  disappeared. 
Oneco  rose :  "  I  like  not  this  light,"  he  said ;  "  we 
must  be  gone ;  we  have  redeemed  our  promise ;"  and 
he  took  Hope's  cloak  from  the  ground,  and  gave  it 
to  her  as  a  signal  that  the  moment  of  separation  had 
arrived. 

"  Oh,  stay  one  moment  longer,"  cried  Hope.  One- 
co pointed  to  the  heavens,  over  which  black  and 
threatening  clouds  were  rapidly  gathering,  and  Mag- 
awisca said,  "  Do  not  ask  us  to  delay ;  my  father 
has  waited  long  enough."  Hope  now,  for  the  first 
time,  observed  there  was  an  Indian  in  the  canoe, 
wrapped  in  skins,  and  listlessly  awaiting,  in  a  recum- 
bent position,  the  termination  of  the  scene. 

"  Is  that  Mononotto  ?"  she  said,  shuddering  at  the 
thought  of  the  bloody  scenes  with  which  he  was  as- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  77 

sociated  in  her  mind ;  but,  before  her  inquiry  was 
answered,  the  subject  of  it  sprang  to  his  feet,  and 
uttering  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  stretched  his 
hand  towards  the  town.  All  at  once  perceived  the 
object  towards  which  he  pointed.  A  bright  strong 
light  streamed  upward  from  the  highest  point  of  land, 
and  sent  a  ruddy  glow  over  the  bay.  Every  eye 
turned  inquiringly  to  Hope.  "It  is  nothing,"  she 
said  to  Magawisca,  "  but  the  light  that  is  often  kin- 
dled on  Beacon  Hill  to  guide  the  ships  into  the  har- 
bour. The  night  is  becoming  dark,  and  some  vessel 
is  expected  in ;  that  is  all,  believe  me." 

"Whatever  trust  her  visiters  might  have  reposed  in 
Hope's  good  faith,  they  were  evidently  alarmed  by 
an  appearance  which  they  did  not  think  sufficiently 
accounted  for  ;  and  Oneco  hearing,  or  imagining  he 
heard,  approaching  oars,  said,  in  his  own  language, 
to  Magawisca,  "  We  have  no  time  to  lose ;  I  will  not 
permit  my  white  bird  to  remain  any  longer  within 
reach  of  the  net." 

Magawisca  assented  :  "  We  must  go,"  she  said ; 
"  we  must  no  longer  hazard  our  father's  life."  One- 
co sprang  into  the  canoe,  and  called  to  Mary  to  fol- 
low^ him. 

"  Oh,  spare  her  one  single  moment !"  said  Hope, 
imploringly,  to  INIagawisca ;  and  she  drew  her  a  few 
paces  from  the  shore,  and  knelt  down  with  her,  and, 
in  a  half  articulate  prayer,  expressed  the  tenderness 
and  sorrow^  of  her  soul,  and  committed  her  sister  to 
God.  Mary  understood  her  action,  and  feeling  that 
their  separation  was  forever,  nature  for  a  moment  as- 
G  2 


78  HOPE    LESLIE. 

serted  her  rights ;  she  returned  Hope's  embrace,  and 
wept  on  her  bosom. 

While  the  sisters  were  thus  folded  in  one  another's 
arms,  a  loud  yell  burst  from  the  savages ;  Maga- 
wisca  caught  Mary  by  the  arms,  and  Hope,  turning, 
perceived  that  a  boat  filled  with  armed  men  had 
passed  the  projecting  point  of  land,  and,  borne  in  by 
the  tide,  it  instantly  touched  the  beach,  and  in  anoth- 
er instant  Magawisca  and  Mary  were  prisoners. 
Hope  saw  the  men  were  in  the  uniform  of  the  gov- 
ernor's guard.  One  moment  before  she  w^ould  have 
given  worlds  to  have  had  her  sister  in  her  power; 
but  now,  the  first  impulse  of  her  generous  spirit  was 
an  abhorrence  of  her  seeming  treachery  to  her  friends. 
"  Oh  !  Oneco,"  she  cried,  springing  towards  the  ca- 
noe, "I  did  not — indeed  I  did  not  know  of  it." 
She  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words,  which  fell  from 
her  neither  understood  nor  heeded,  when  Oneco 
caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  shouting  to  Magawisca 
to  tell  the  English  that,  as  they  dealt  by  Mary,  so 
w^ould  he  deal  by  her  sister,  he  gave  the  canoe  the 
first  impulse,  and  it  shot  out  like  an  arrow,  distancing 
and  defying  pursuit. 

Oneco's  coup-de-main  seemed  to  petrify  all  present. 
They  were  roused  by  Sir  Philip  Gardiner,  who,  com- 
ing round  the  base  of  the  cliff,  appeared  among 
them ;  and,  learning  the  cause  of  their  amazement, 
he  ordered  them,  with  a  burst  of  passionate  excla- 
mation, instantly  to  man  the  boat,  and  proceed  with 
him  in  pursuit.  This  one  and  all  refused.  "  Day- 
light and  calm  water,"  they  said,  "  would  be  neces- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  79 

sary  to  give  any  hope  to  such  a  pursuit,  and  the 
storm  was  now  gathering  so  fast  as  to  render  it  dan- 
gerous to  venture  out  at  all." 

Sir  Philip  endeavoured  to  alarm  them  with  threats 
of  the  governor's  displeasure,  and  to  persuade  them 
with  offers  of  high  reward  ;  but  they  understood  too 
well  the  danger  and  hopelessness  of  the  attempt  to 
risk  it,  and  they  remained  inexorable.  Sir  Philip 
then  went  in  quest  of  Digby,  and  at  the  distance  of  a 
few  paces  met  him.  Alarmed  by  the  rapid  approach 
of  the  storm,  he  was  seeking  Miss  Leslie  j  when  he 
learned  her  fate  from  Sir  Philip's  hurried  communica- 
tion, he  uttered  a  cry  of  despair.  "  Oh  !  I  would  go 
after  her,"  he  said,  "  if  I  had  but  a  cockle-shell ;  but 
it  seems  as  if  the  foul  fiends  were  at  work  :  my  boat 
was  this  morning  sent  to  town  to  be  repaired.  And 
yet,  what  could  we  do  ?"  He  added,  shuddering, 
"  The  wind  is  rising  to  that  degree,  that  I  think  no 
boat  could  live  in  the  bay ;  and  it  is  getting  as  dark 
as  Egypt.  0  God,  save  my  precious  young  lady ! 
God  have  mercy  on  her  !"  he  continued.  A  sudden 
burst  of  thunder  heightened  his  alarm  :  "  J\Jan  can 
do  nothing  for  her.  Why,  in  the  name  of  Heaven," 
he  added,  with  a  natural  desire  to  appropriate  the 
blame  of  misfortune,  "  why  must  they  be  forever 
meddling ;  why  not  let  the  sisters  meet  and  part  in 
peace  V 

"  Oh,  why  not  1"  thought  Sir  Philip,  who  wmld 
have  given  his  right  hand  to  have  retraced  the  steps 
that  had  led  to  this  most  unlooked-for  and  unhappy 
issue  of  the  affair.     They  were  now  joined  by  the 


80  HOPE    LESLIE. 

guard  with  their  prisoners.  Digby  was  requested  to 
lead  them  instantly  to  a  shelter.  He  did  so ;  and, 
agitated  as  he  was  with  fear  and  despair  for  Miss 
Leslie,  he  did  not  fail  to  greet  Magawisca  as  one  to 
whom  all  honour  was  due.  She  heeded  him  not ;  she 
seemed  scarcely  conscious  of  the  cries  of  Faith  Les- 
lie, who  was  weeping  hke  a  child,  and  clinging  to 
her.  The  treachery  that  had  betrayed  her  rapt 
her  soul  in  indignation,  and  nothing  roused  her  but 
the  blasts  of  wind  and  flashes  of  lightning,  that 
seemed  to  her  the  death-knell  of  her  father. 

The  storm  continued  for  the  space  of  an  hour,  and 
then  died  away  as  suddenly  as  it  had  gathered.  Li 
another  hour  the  guard  had  safely  landed  at  the 
wharf,  and  were  conveying  their  prisoners  to  the 
governor.  He  and  his  confidential  counsellors,  who 
had  been  awaiting  at  his  house  the  return  of  their 
emissaries,  solaced  themselves  with  the  behef  that 
all  parties  were  safely  sheltered  on  the  island,  and 
probably  would  remain  there  during  the  night. 
While  they  were  whispering  this  conclusion  to  one 
another  at  one  extremity  of  the  parlour,  Everell  sat 
beside  Miss  Downing  in  the  recess  of  a  window  that 
overlooked  the  garden.  The  huge  projecting  chim- 
ney formed  a  convenient  screen  for  the  lovers.  The 
evening  was  warm,  the  window-sash  thrown  up. 
The  moon  had  come  forth,  and  shed  a  mild  lustre 
through  the  dewy  atmosphere ;  the  very  light  that  the 
young  and  sentimental,  and,  above  all,  young  and 
sentimental  lovers,  most  delight  in.  But  in  vain 
did  Everell  look  abroad  for  inspiration  -,  in  vain  did 


HOPE    LESLIE.  81 

he  turn  his  eyes  to  Esther's  face,  now  more  beautiful 
than  ever,  flushed  as  it  was  with  the  first  dawn  of 
happiness;  in  vain  did  he  try  to  recall  his  truant 
thoughts,  to  answer  words  to  her  timid  but  bright 
glances;  he  would  not,  he  could  not  say  what  he 
did  not  feel,  and  the  few  sentences  he ,  uttered  fell 
on  his  own  ear  like  cold  abstractions.  While  he 
was  in  this  durance,  his  father  was  listening — if  a 
man  stretched  on  a  rack  can  be  said  to  listen — to 
Madam  Winthrop's  whispered  and  reiterated  assu- 
rances of  her  entire  approbation  of  her  niece's  choice. 

This  was  the  position  of  all  parties,  when  a  bustle 
was  heard  in  the  court,  and  the  guard  entered.  The 
foremost  advanced  to  the  governor,  and  communica- 
ted a  few  sentences  in  a  low  tone.  The  governor 
manifested  unusual  emotion,  turned  round  sudden- 
ly, and  exclaimed,  "  Here,  Mr.  Fletcher — Everell ;" 
and  then  motioning  to  them  to  keep  their  places,  he 
said,  in  an  under  voice,  to  those  near  to  him,  "  We 
must  first  dispose  of  our  prisoner :  come  forward, 
Magawisca." 

"  Magawisca !"  echoed  Everell,  springing  at  one 
bound  into  the  hall.  But  Magawisca  shrunk  back 
and  averted  her  face.  "  Now  God  be  praised  !"  he 
exclaimed,  as  he  caught  the  first  glance  of  a  form 
never  to  be  forgotten ;  "  it  is — it  is  Magawisca  !" 
She  did  not  speak,  but  drew  away,  and  leaned  her 
head  against  the  wall.  "  What  means  this  ?"  he 
said,  now  for  the  first  time  espying  Faith  Leslie,  and 
then  looking  round  on  the  guard ;  "  what  means  it, 
sir  ?"  he  demanded,  turning  somewhat  imperiously 
to  the  governor. 


82  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  It  means,  sir,"  replied  the  governor,  coldly, 
"  that  this  Indian  woman  is  the  prisoner  of  the  Com- 
monwealth." 

"  It  means  that  I  am  a  prisoner,  lured  to  the  net, 
and  betrayed." 

"  You  a  prisoner — here,  Magawisca !"  Everell  ex- 
claimed. "  Impossible  !  Justice,  gratitude,  humanity 
forbid  it.  My  father— Governor  Winthrop,  you  will 
not  surely  suffer  this  outrage  ]" 

The  elder  Fletcher  had  advanced,  and,  scarcely 
less  perplexed  and  agitated  than  his  son,  was  en- 
deavouring to  draw  forth  Faith  Leslie,  who  had 
shrunk  behind  Magawisca.  Governor  Winthrop 
seemed  not  at  all  pleased  with  Everell's  interference. 
"  You  will  do  well,  young  Mr.  Fletcher,  to  bridle 
your  zeal ;  private  feelings  must  yield  to  the  public 
good :  this  young  woman  is  suspected  of  being  an 
active  agent  in  brewing  the  conspiracy  forming 
against  us  among  the  Indian  tribes  ;  and  it  is  some- 
what bold  in  you  to  oppose  the  course  of  justice — to 
intermeddle  with  the  public  welfare — to  lift  your 
feeble  judgment  against  the  wisdom  of  Providence, 
which  has  led,  by  peculiar  means,  to  the  apprehen- 
sion of  the  enemy.  Conduct  your  prisoner  to  the 
jail,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  guard,  "  and  bid  Bar- 
naby  have  her  in  close  and  safe  keeping  till  farther 
orders." 

"  For  the  love  of  God,  sir,"  cried  Everell,  "  do  not 
this  injustice.  At  least  suffer  her  to  remain  in  your 
own  house,  on  her  promise — more  secure  than  the 
"walls  of  a  prison."  Governor  Winthrop  only  replied 
by  signing  to  the  guards  to  proceed  to  their  duty. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  83 

"  Stay  one  moment,"  exclaimed  Everell ;  "  per- 
mit her,  Ll)eseech  you,  to  remain  here ;  place  her  in 
any  one  of^our  apartments,  and  I  will  remain  before 
it,  a  faithful  warder,  night  and  day.  But  do  not — 
do  not,  I  beseech  you — sully  your  honour  by  commit- 
ting this  noble  creature  to  your  jail." 

"  Listen  to  my  son,  I  entreat  you,"  said  the  elder 
Fletcher,  unable  any  longer  to  restrain  his  own  feel- 
ings ;  "  certainly  we  owe  much  to  this  w^oman." 

"  You  owe  much,  undoubtedly,"  replied  the  gov- 
ernor ;  "  but  it  yet  remains  to  be  proved,  my  friend, 
that  your  son's  redeemed  life  is  to  be  put  in  the  bal- 
ance against  the  public  weal." 

Esther,  who  had  observed  the  scene  with  an  in- 
tense interest,  now  overcame  her  timidity  so  far  as 
to  penetrate  the  circle  that  surrounded  the  governor, 
and  to  attempt  to  enforce  Everell's  prayer.  "  May 
not  Magawisca,"  she  said,  "  share  our  apartment — 
Hope's  and  mine  1  She  will  then,  in  safe  custody, 
await  your  farther  pleasure." 

"  Thanks,  Esther — thanks,"  cried  Everell,  with  an 
animation  that  would  have  rewarded  a  far  more  dif- 
ficult effort :  but  all  efforts  were  unavailing,  but  not 
useless;  for  Magawisca  said  to  Everell,  "You have 
sent  light  into  my  darkened  soul — you  have  truth 
and  gratitude  ;  and  for  the  rest,  they  are  but  what  I 
deemed  them.  Send  me,"  she  continued,  proudly 
turning  to  the  governor,"  to  your  dungeon ;  all  pla- 
ces are  alike  to  me  w'hile  I  am  your  prisoner ;  but,  for 
the  sake  of  Everell  Fletcher,  let  me  tell  you,  that  she 
who  is  dearer  to  him  than  his  own  soul,  if,  indeed, 


84  HOPE    LESLIE. 

she  has  lived  out  the  perils  of  this  night,  must  answer 
for  my  safe  keeping.'' 

"  Hope  Leslie !"  exclaimed  Everell ;  "  what  has 
happened  ?     What  do  you  mean,  Magawisca  ?" 

"  She  was  the  decoy  bird,"  replied  Magawisca, 
calmly ;  "  and  she,  too,  is  caught  in  the  net." 

"Explain,  I  beseech  you!"  The  governor  an- 
swered EverelPs  appeal  by  a  brief  explanation.  A 
bustle  ensued  :  every  other  feeling  was  now  lost  in 
concern  for  Hope  Leslie  -,  and  Magawisca  was  sep- 
arated from  her  weeping  and  frightened  companion, 
and  conducted  away  without  farther  opposition ; 
while  the  two  Fletchers,  as  if  life  and  death  hung 
on  every  instant,  were  calling  on  the  governor  to 
aid  them  in  the  way  and  means  of  pursuit. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  85 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  But  oh  !  that  hapless  virgin,  our  lost  sister, 
Where  may  she  wander  now,  whither  betake  her  ?" 

COMUS. 

Hope  Leslie,  on  being  forced  into  the  canoe,  sunk 
down,  overpowered  with  terror  and  despair.  She 
was  roused  from  this  state  by  Oneco's  loud  and  ve- 
hement appeals  to  his  father,  who  only  replied  by  a 
low,  inarticulate  murmur,  which  seemed  rather  an 
involuntary  emission  of  his  own  feelings  than  a  re- 
sponse to  Oneco.  She  understood  nothing  but  the 
name  of  Magawisca,  which  he  often  repeated,  and 
always  with  a  burst  of  vindictive  feeling,  as  if  every 
other  emotion  were  lost  in  wrath  at  the  treachery  that 
had  wrested  her  from  him.  As  the  apparent  contri- 
ver and  active  agent  in  this  plot,  Hope  felt  that  she 
must  be  the  object  of  detestation  and  the  victim  of 
vengeance,  and  all  that  she  had  heard  or  imagined  of 
Indian  cruelties  was  present  to  her  imagination ;  and 
eveiy  savage  passion  seemed  to  her  to  be  imbodied  in 
the  figure  of  the  old  chief,  when  she  saw  his  con- 
vulsed frame  and  features,  illuminated  by  the  fearful 
lightning  that  flashed  athwart  him.  "  It  is  possible," 
she  thought, "  that  Oneco  may  understand  me ;"  and 
to  him  she  protested  her  innocence,  and  vehemently 
besought  his  compassion.  Oneco  was  not  of  a  cruel 
nature,  nor  was  he  disposed  to  inflict  unnecessary 

Vol.  II.— H 


80  HOPE    LESLIE. 

suffering  on  the  sister  of  his  wife  ;  but  he  was  deter- 
mined to  retain  so  vahiable  a  hostage,  and  his  heart 
was  steeled  against  her  by  his  conviction  that  she 
had  been  a  party  to  the  wrong  done  him  ;  he  there- 
fore turned  a  deaf  ear  to  her  entreaties,  which  her 
supplicating  voice  and  gestures  rendered  intelligible, 
though  he  had  nearly  forgotten  her  language.  He 
made  no  reply  by  word  or  sign,  but  continued  to 
urge  on  his  little  bark  with  all  his  might,  redoub- 
ling his  vigorous  strokes  as  the  fury  of  the  storm  in- 
creased. 

Hope  cast  a  despairing  eye  on  her  receding  home, 
which  she  could  still  mark  through  the  murky  atmo- 
sphere by  the  lurid  flame  that  blazed  on  Beacon 
Hill.  Friends  were  on  every  side  of  her,  and  yet 
no  human  help  could  reach  her.  She  saw  the  faint 
light  that  gleamed  from  Digby's  cottage  window, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  dim  ray  that,  struggling 
through  the  misty  atmosphere,  proceeded  from  the 
watch-tower  on  Castle  Island.  Between  these  lights 
from  opposite  islands,  she  was  passing  down  the 
channel,  and  she  inferred  that  Oneco's  design  was  to 
escape  out  of  the  harbour.  But  Heaven  seemed  de- 
termined to  frustrate  his  purpose,  and  to  show  her 
how  idle  were  all  human  hopes  and  fears,  how  vain 
"  to  cast  the  fashion  of  uncertain  evils." 

The  wind  rose,  and  the  darkness  deepened  at 
every  moment,  the  occasional  flashes  of  lightning 
only  serving  to  make  it  more  intense.  Oneco  tasked 
his  skill  to  the  utmost  to  guide  the  canoe ;  he  strain- 
ed every  nerve,  till,  exhausted  by  useless  eflforts,  he 


HOPE    LESLIE.  87 

dropped  his  oars,  and  awaited  his  resistless  fate. 
The  sublime  powers  of  nature  had  no  terrors  for 
Mononotto.  There  was  something  awe-striking  in 
the  fixed,  unyielding  attitude  of  the  old  man,  who 
sat  as  if  he  were  carved  in  stone,  while  the  blasts 
swept  by  him,  and  the  lightnings  played  over  him. 
There  are  few  who  have  not,  at  some  period  of  their 
lives,  lost  their  consciousness  of  individuality — their 
sense  of  this  shrinking,  tremulous,  sensitive  being,  in 
the  dread  magnificence,  the  "  holy  mystery'^  of  na- 
ture. 

Hope,  even  in  her  present  extremity,  forgot  her 
fear  and  danger  in  the  sublimity  of  the  storm.  When 
the  wild  flashes  wrapped  the  bay  in  light,  and  re- 
vealed to  sight  the  little  bark  leaping  over  the 
"  yesty  waves,"  the  stern  figure  of  the  old  man,  the 
graceful  form  of  Oneco,  and  Hope  Leslie,  her  eye 
upraised  with  an  instinctive  exaltation  of  feeling, 
she  mio'ht  have  been  taken  for  some  briorht  vision 
from  another  sphere,  sent  to  conduct  her  dark  com- 
panions through  the  last  tempestuous  passage  of  life. 
But  the  triumphs  of  her  spirit  were  transient ;  mortal 
danger  pressed  on  life.  A  thunderbolt  burst  over 
their  heads.  Hope  was,  for  a  moment,  stunned.  The 
next  flash  showed  the  old  man  struck  down  sense- 
less. Oneco  shrieked,  raised  the  lifeless  body  in  his 
arms,  laid  his  ear  to  the  still  bosom,  and  chafed  the 
breast  and  limbs.  While  he  w^as  thus  striving  to 
bring  back  life,  the  storm  abated  ;  the  moonbeams 
struggled  through  the  parting  clouds,  and  the  canoe, 
driven  at  the  mercy  of  the  wind  and  tide,  neared  a 


88  HOPE    LESLIE. 

little  island,  and  drifted  on  the  beach.  Oneco  leap- 
ed out,  dragged  his  father's  lifeless  body  to  the  turf, 
and  renewed  and  redoubled  his  efforts  to  restore 
him ;  and  Hope,  moved  by  an  involuntary  sympathy 
with  the  distress  of  his  child,  stooped  down  and 
chafed  the  old  man's  palms.  Either  from  despair, 
or  an  impulse  of  awakened  hope,  Oneco  suddenly 
uttered  an  exclamation,  stretched  himself  on  the 
body,  and  locked  his  arms  around  it.  Hope  rose  to 
her  feet,  and,  seeing  Mononotto  unconscious,  and 
Oneco  entirely  absorbed  in  his  own  painful  anxieties 
and  efforts,  the  thought  occurred  to  her  that  she 
might  escape  from  her  captors. 

She  looked  at  the  little  bark  :  her  strength,  small 
as  it  was,  might  avail  to  launch  it  again ;  and  she 
might  trust  the  same  Providence  that  had  just  deliv- 
ered her  from  peril,  to  guide  her  in  safety  over  the 
still  turbulent  waters.  But  a  danger  just  escaped  is 
more  fearful  than  one  untried  ;  and  she  shrunk  from 
adventuring  alone  on  the  powerful  element.  The 
island  might  be  inhabited.  If  she  could  gain  a  few 
moments  before  she  was  missed  by  Oneco,  it  was 
possible  she  might  find  protection  and  safety.  She 
did  not  stop  to  deliberate ;  but,  casting  one  glance 
at  the  brightening  heavens,  and  ejaculating  a  prayer 
for  aid,  and  ascertaining  by  one  look  at  Oneco  that 
he  did  not  observe  her,  she  bounded  away.  She 
fancied  she  heard  steps  pursuing  her ;  but  she  press- 
ed on,  without  once  looking  back  or  faltering,  till 
she  reached  a  slight  elevation,  whence  she  perceived, 
at  no  great  distance  from  her,  a  light  placed  on  the 


HOPE    LESLIE.  89 

ground,  and,  on  approaching  a  little  nearer,  saw 
a  man  lying  beside  it,  and,  at  a  few  paces  from 
him,  several  others  stretched  on  the  grass,  and,  as 
she  thought,  sleeping.  She  now  advanced  cautious- 
ly and  timidly  till  she  was  near  enough  to  conclude 
that  they  were  a  company  of  sailors,  who  had  been 
indulging  in  a  lawless  revel.  Such,  in  truth,  they 
were ;  the  crew  belonging  to  the  vessel  of  the  noto- 
rious Chaddock.  The  disorders  of  both  master  and 
men  had  given  such  offence  to  the  sober  citizens  of 
Boston,  that  they  had  been  prohibited  from  entering 
the  town  ;  and  the  men  having  been,  on  this  occa- 
sion, allowed  by  their  captain  to  indulge  in  a  revel 
on  land,  they  had  betaken  themselves  to  an  uninhab- 
ited island,  where  they  might  give  the  reins  to  their 
excesses  without  dread  of  restraint  or  penalty.  As 
they  now  appeared  to  the  eye  of  our  heroine,  they 
formed  a  group  from  which  a  painter  might  have 
sketched  the  orgies  of  Bacchus. 

Fragments  of  a  coarse  feast  were  strewn  about 
them,  and  the  ground  was  covered  with  wrecks  of 
jugs,  bottles,  and  mugs.  Some  of  them  had  throw^n 
off  their  coats  and  neckcloths  in  the  heat  of  the  day, 
and  had  lain  with  their  throats  and  bosoms  bared  to 
the  storm,  of  which  they  had  been  unconscious. 
Others,  probably  less  inebriated,  had  been  disturbed 
by  the  vivid  flashes  of  lightning,  and  had  turned 
their  faces  to  the  earth.  While  Hope  shuddered  at 
the  sight  of  these  brutalized  wretches,  and  thought 
any  fate  would  be  better  than 
H  2 


90  HOPE    LESLIE. 

**  To  meet  the  rudeness  and  swilled  insolence 
Of  such  late  v.'dssailers," 

one  of  them  awoke  and  looked  up  at  her.  He  had 
but  imperfectly  recovered  his  senses,  and  he  per- 
ceived her  but  faintly  and  indistinctly,  as  one  sees  an 
object  through  mist.  Hope  stood  near  him,  but  she 
stood  perfectly  still ;  for  she  knev^,  from  his  imbecile 
smile  and  half-articulated  words,  that  she  had  no- 
thing to  fear.  He  laid  his  hand  on  the  border  of 
her  cloak,  and  muttered,  "  St.  George's  colours — 
Dutch  flag  —  no,  d  —  n  me,  Hanse,  I  say  —  St. 
George's — St.  George's — nail  them  to  the  masthead 
— I  say,  Hanse,  St.  George's — St.  George's — "  and 
then  his  words  died  away  on  his  tongue,  and  he 
laughed  in  his  throat  as  one  laughs  in  his  sleep. 

While  Hope  hesitated  for  an  instant  whether 
again  to  expose  herself  to  the  thraldom  from  which 
she  had  with  such  joy  escaped,  one  of  the  other  men, 
either  aroused  by  his  companion's  voice,  or  having 
outslept  the  fumes  of  the  liquor,  started  up,  and,  on 
perceiving  her,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  stared  as  if  he 
doubted  whether  she  were  a  vision  or  a  reality. 
Hope's  first  impulse  was  to  fly ;  but,  though  con- 
fused and  alarmed,  she  was  aware  that  escape  would 
be  impossible  if  he  chose  to  pursue,  and  that  her 
only  alternative  was  to  solicit  his  compassion. 

"  Friend,"  she  said,  in  a  fearful,  tremulous  voice, 
"  I  come  to  beg  your  aid." 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry,  she  speaks !"  exclaimed  the 
fellow,  interrupting  her  j  "  she  is  a  woman :  wake, 
boys,  wake !" 


HOPE    LESLIE.  91 

The  men  were  now  roused  from  their  slumbers: 
some  rose  to  their  feet,  and  all  stared  stupidly,  not 
one,  save  him  first  awakened,  having  the  perfect 
command  of  his  senses.  "  If  ye  have  the  soul  of  a 
man,"  said  Hope,  imploringly,  "  protect  me — convey 
me  to  Boston.  Any  reward  that  you  will  ask  or 
take  shall  be  given  to  you." 

"  There's  no  reward  could  pay  for  you,  honey," 
replied  the  fellow,  advancing  towards  her. 

"  In  the  name  of  God,  hear  me  !"  she  cried  ;  but 
the  man  continued  to  approach,  with  a  horrid  leer 
on  his  face.  "  Then  save  me,  Heaven  !"  she  scream- 
ed, and  rushed  towards  the  w^ater.  The  wretch  was 
daunted ;  he  paused  but  for  an  instant,  then  calhng 
on  his  comrades  to  join  him,  they  all,  hooting  and 
shouting,  pursued  her. 

Hope  now  felt  that  death  was  her  only  deliver- 
ance ;  if  she  could  but  reach  the  waves  that  she 
saw  heaving  and  breaking  on  the  shore — if  she  could 
but  bury  herself  beneath  them  !  But,  though  she 
flew  as  if  she  were  borne  on  the  wings  of  the  wind, 
her  pursuers  gained  on  her.  The  foremost  was  so 
near  that  she  expected  at  every  breath  his  hand 
would  grasp  her,  when  his  foot  stumbled,  and  he  fell 
headlong,  and  as  he  fell  he  snatched  her  cloak.  By 
a  desperate  effort  she  extricated  herself  from  his  hold, 
and  again  darted  forward.  She  heard  him  vocif- 
erate curses,  and  understood  he  was  unable  to  rise. 
She  cast  one  fearful  glance  behind  her  :  she  had 
gained  on  the  horrid  crew.  "  Oh  I  I  may  escape 
them,"  she  thought  3  and  she  pressed  on  with  as 


92  HOPE    LESLIE. 

much  eagerness  to  cast  away  life  as  ever  was  felt  to 
save  it.  As  she  drew  near  the  water's  edge,  she 
perceived  a  boat  attached  to  an  upright  post  that  had 
been  driven  into  the  earth  at  the  extremity  of  a  nar- 
row stone  pier.  A  thought  like  inspiration  flashed 
into  her  mind  ;  she  ran  to  the  end  of  the  pier,  leaped 
into  the  boat,  uncoiled  the  rope  that  attached  it  to 
the  post,  and,  seizing  an  oar,  pushed  it  off.  There 
was  a  strong  tide  j  and  the  boat,  as  if  instinct  with 
life,  and  obedient  to  her  necessities,  floated  rapidly 
from  the  shore.  Her  pursuers  had  now  reached  the 
water's  edge,  and,  finding  themselves  foiled,  some 
vented  their  spite  in  jeers  and  hoarse  laughs,  and 
others  in  loud  and  bitter  curses.  Hope  felt  that 
Heaven  had  interposed  for  her;  and, sinking  on  her 
knees,  she  clasped  her  hands,  and  breathed  forth  her 
soul  in  fervent  thanksgivings.  While  she  was  thus 
absorbed,  a  man  who  had  been  lying  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat  unobserved  by  her,  and  covered  by  vari- 
ous outer  garments,  which  he  had  so  disposed  as  to 
shelter  himself  from  the  storm,  lifted  up  his  head,  and 
looked  at  her  with  mute  amazement.  He  was  an 
Italian,  and  belonged  to  the  same  ship's  company 
with  the  revellers  on  the  shore ;  but,  not  inclining  to 
their  excesses,  and  thinking,  on  the  approach  of  the 
storm,  that  some  judgment  was  about  to  overtake 
them,  he  had  returned  to  the  boat,  and  sheltered 
himself  there  as  well  as  he  was  able.  When  the 
tempest  abated  he  had  fallen  asleep,  his  imagination 
probably  in  an  excited  state ;  and,  on  awaking,  and 
seeing  Hope  in  an  attitude  of  devotion,  he  very  nat- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  93 

urally  mistook  her  for  a  celestial  visitant.  In  truth, 
she  scarcely  looked  like  a  being  of  this  earth :  her 
hat  and  gloves  were  gone ;  her  hair  fell  in  graceful 
disorder  about  her  neck  and  shoulders,  and  her  white 
dress  and  blue  silk  mantle  had  a  saintlike  simpli- 
city. The  agitating  chances  of  the  evening  had 
scarcely  left  the  hue  of  life  on  her  cheek,  and  her 
deep  sense  of  the  presence  and  favour  of  Heaven 
heightened  her  natural  beauty  with  a  touch  of  reli- 
gious inspiration. 

"  Hail,  blessed  Virgin  Mary !"  cried  the  Catholic 
Italian,  bending  low  before  her,  and  crossing  him- 
self; "  Queen  of  Heaven !  Gate  of  Paradise  f  and 
Lady  of  the  World !  O  most  clement,  most  pious, 
and  most  sweet  Virgin  Maiy !  bless  thy  sinful  ser- 
vant." He  spoke  in  his  native  tongue,  of  which  Hope 
fortunately  knew  enough  to  comprehend  him,  and  to 
frame  a  phrase  in  return.  The  earnestness  of  his 
countenance  was  a  sure  pledge  of  his  sincerity,  and 
Hope  was  half  inclined  to  turn  his  superstition  to  her 
advantage ;  but  his  devotion  approached  so  near  to 
W'Orship  that  she  dared  not ;  and  she  said,  with  the 
intention  of  dissipating  his  illusion,  "  I  am  not,  my 
friend,  what  you  imagine  me  to  be." 

"  Thou  art  not — thou  art  not — holy  Queen  of  Vir- 
gins and  of  all  heavenly  citizens  :  then,  most  gra- 
cious lady,  which  of  all  the  martyrs  and  saints  of  our 
holy  Church  art  thou  1  Santa  Catharina  of  Siena, 
the  blessed  bride  of  a  holy  marriage  ?"  Hope  shook 
her  head.  "  Santa  Helena,  then,  in  whose  church 
I  was  first  signed  with  holy  water  ?     Nay,  thou  art 


94  HOrE    LESLIE. 

not  ?  then  art  thou  Santa  Bibiana  ?  or  Santa  Rosa  ? 
Thy  beauteous  hair  is  Hii:e  that  sacred  lock  over  the 
altar  of  Santa  Croce." 

"  I  am  not  any  of  these,"  said  Hope,  with  a  smile, 
which  the  Catholic's  pious  zeal  extorted  from  her. 

"  Thou  smilest !"  he  cried,  exultingly :  "  thou  art, 
then,  my  own  peculiar  saint,  the  blessed  Lady  Petro- 
nilla.  O  holy  martyr  !  spotless  mirror  of  purity  !"  and 
again  he  knelt  at  her  feet  and  crossed  himself.  "  My 
life  !  my  sweetness  !  and  my  hope  I  to  thee  do  I  cry,  a 
poor  banished  son  of  Eve :  what  wouldst  thou  have 
thy  dedicated  servant,  Antonio  Batista,  to  do,  that 
thou  hast,  O  glorious  lady  !  followed  him  from  our 
own  sweet  Italy  to  this  land  of  heathen  savages  and 
heretic  English  ?" 

This  invocation  was  long  enough  to  allow  our  he- 
roine time  to  make  up  her  mind  as  to  the  course  she 
should  pursue  with  her  votary.  She  had  recoiled 
from  the  impiety  of  appropriating  his  address  to  the 
Holy  Mother;  but,  Protestant  as  she  was,  she  un- 
hesitatingly identified  herself  with  a  Catholic  saint. 
"  Good  Antonio,"  she  said,  "  I  am  well  pleased  to 
find  thee  faithful,  as  thou  hast  proved  thyself  by 
withdrawing  from  thy  vile  comrades.  To  take  part 
in  their  excesses  would  but  endanger  thine  eternal 
welfare  :  bear  this  in  mind.  Now,  honest  Antonio, 
I  will  put  honour  on  thee;  thou  shalt  do  me  good 
service.  Take  those  oars,  and  ply  them  well  till  we 
reach  yon  town,  where  I  have  an  errand  that  must 
be  done." 

*^  0  most  blessed  lady  !  sacred  martyr,  and  sister 


HOPE    LESLIE.  95 

of  mercy !  who,  entering  into  the  heavenly  palace, 
didst  fill  the  holy  angels  with  joy,  and  men  with  hope, 
I  obey  thee,"  he  said ;  and  then,  taking  from  his 
bosom  a  small  ivory  box,  in  which,  on  opening  it, 
there  appeared  to  be  a  shred  of  linen  cloth,  he  add- 
ed, "  but  first,  most  gracious  lady,  vouchsafe  to  bless 
this  holy  relic,  taken  from  the  linen  in  which  thy 
body  was  enfolded,  when,  after  it  had  lain  a  thousand 
years  in  the  grave,  it  was  raised  therefrom  fresh  and 
beautiful,  as  it  now  appeareth  to  me." 

Our  saint  could  not  forbear  a  smile  at  this  star- 
tling fact  in  her  history  ;  but  she  prudently  took  the 
box,  and,  unclasping  a  bracelet  from  her  arm,  which 
was  fastened  by  a  small  diamond  cross,  she  added  it 
to  the  relic,  whose  value,  though  less  obvious,  could 
not  be  exceeded  in  Antonio's  estimation.  "  I  give 
thee  this,"  she  said,  "  Antonio,  for  thy  spiritual  and 
temporal  necessities ;  and,  shouldst  thou  ever  be  in 
extreme  need,  I  permit  thee  to  give  it  into  the  hand 
of  some  cunning  artificer,  who  will  extract  the  dia- 
monds for  thee  without  marring  the  form  of  the 
blessed  cross."  Antonio  received  the  box  as  if  it 
contained  the  freedom  of  Paradise ;  and,  replacing  it 
in  his  bosom,  he  crossed  himself  again  and  again, 
repeating  his  invocations  till  his  saint,  apprehensive 
that,  in  his  ecstasy,  he  would  lose  all  remembrance 
of  the  high  oflfice  for  which  she  had  selected  him, 
gently  reminded  him  that  it  was  the  duty  of  the 
faithful  to  pass  promptly  from  devotion  to  obedience ; 
on  this  hint  he  rose,  took  up  the  oars,  and  exercised 
his  strength  and  skill  with^such  exemplary  fidelity, 


96  HOPE    LESLIE. 

that  in  less  than  two  hours  his  boat  touched  the 
pier  which  Hope  designated  as  the  point  where  she 
would  disembark. 

Before  she  parted  from  her  votary,  she  said,  "  I 
give  thee  my  blessings  and  my  thanks,  Antonio; 
and  I  enjoin  thee  to  say  naught  to  thy  wicked  com- 
rades of  my  visitation  to  thee  ;  they  would  but  jeer 
thee,  and  wound  thy  spirit  by  making  thy  lady  their 
profane  jest.  Reserve  the  tale,  Antonio,  for  the  ears 
of  the  faithful,  who  marvel  not  at  miracles." 

Antonio  bowed  in  token  of  obedience,  and,  as 
long  as  Hope  saw  him,  he  remained  in  an  attitude 
of  profound  homage. 

Our  heroine's  elastic  spirit,  ever  ready  to  rise 
when  pressure  was  removed,  had  enabled  her  to 
sustain  her  extempore  cl^aracter  with  some  anima- 
tion ;  but,  as  soon  as  she  had  parted  from  Antonio, 
and  was  no  longer  stimulated  to  exertion  by  the  fear 
that  his  illusion  might  be  prematurely  dissipated,  she 
felt  that  her  strength  had  been  overtaxed  by  the 
strange  accidents  and  various  perils  of  the  evening. 
Her  garments  were  wet  and  heavy,  and  at  every 
step  she  feared  another  would  be  impossible.  Her 
head  became  giddy,  and  faintness  and  weariness,  to 
her  new  and  strange  sensations,  seemed  to  drag  her 
to  the  earth.  She  looked  and  listened  in  vain  for 
some  being  to  call  to  her  assistance :  the  streets 
were  empty  and  silent ;  and,  unable  to  proceed,  she 
sunk  down  on  the  steps  of  a  warehouse,  shut  her 
eyes,  and  laid  down  her  head  to  still  its  throbbings. 

She  had  not  remained  thus  many  minutes,  when 


HOPE    LESLIE.  97 

she  was  startled  by  a  voice  saying,  "  Ha !  lady,  dost 
thou  too  wander  aione  1  Is  thy  cheek  pale — thy  head 
sick — thy  heart  fluttering  1  Yet  thou  art  not  guilty 
nor  forsaken  !" 

Hope  looked  up,  and  perceived  she  was  address- 
ed by  Sir  Philip  Gardiner's  page.  She  had  repeat- 
edly seen  him  since  their  first  meeting ;  but,  occu- 
pied as  she  had  been  with  objects  of  intense  interest 
to  her,  she  thought  not  of  their  first  singular  inter- 
view, excepting  when  it  was  recalled  by  the  sup- 
posed boy's  keen,  and,  as  she  fancied,  angry  glan- 
ces. They  seemed  involuntary ;  for  when  his  eye 
met  hers,  he  withdrew  it,  and  his  cheek  was  dyed 
with  blushes.  There  was  now  a  thrilling  melancholy 
in  his  tone ;  his  eye  was  dim  and  sunken ;  and  his 
apparel,  usually  elaborate,  and  somewhat  fantastical, 
had  a  neglected  air.  His  vest  was  open )  his  lace 
ruff,  which  was  ordinarily  arranged  with  a  care  that 
betrayed  his  consciousness  how  much  it  graced  his 
fair,  delicate  throat,  had  nov/  been  forgotten,  and 
the  feathers  of  his  little  Spanish  hat  dangled  over 
his  face. 

Hope  Leslie  was  in  no  condition  to  note  these 
particulars;  but  she  was  struck  with  his  haggard 
and  v/retched  appearance,  and  was  alarmed  when 
she  saw  him  lay  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of  a  dagger 
that  gleamed  from  beneath  the  folds  of  his  vest. 

"  Do  not  shrink,  lady,"  he  said ;  "  the  pure  should 
not  fear  death,  and  I  am  sure  the  guilty  need  not 
dread  it :  there  is  nothing  worse  for  them  than  they 
may  feel  walking  on  the  fair  earth,  with  the  lights 

Vol.  II.~I 


98  HOPE    LESLIE. 

of  Heaven  shining  on  them.  I  had  this  dagger  of 
my  master,  and  I  think,"  he  added,  with  a  convul- 
sive sob,  "  he  would  not  be  sorry  if  I  used  it  to  rid 
him  of  his  troublesome  page." 

"  Why  do  you  not  leave  your  master,  if  he  is  of 
this  fiendish  disposition  towards  you  ?"  asked  Hope : 
"  leave  him,  and  return  to  your  friends." 

"  Friends  !  friends !"  he  exclaimed  -,  "  the  rich — 
the  good — the  happy — those  born  in  honour  have 
friends.     I  have  not  a  friend  in  the  wide  world." 

"Poor    soul!"    said   Hope,   losing    every   other 
thought  in  compassion  for  the  poor  boy ;  and  some 
notion  of  his  real  character  and  relation  to  Sir  Phil- 
ip darting  into  her  mind,  "  Then  leave  this  wretched 
man,  and  trust  thyself  to  Heaven." 
"  I  am  forsaken  of  Heaven,  lady." 
"  That  cannot  be.     God  never  forsakes  his  crea- 
tures :  the  miserable,  the  guilty,  from  whom  every 
face  is  turned  away,  may  still  go  to  him,  and  find 
forgiveness  and  peace.     His  compassions  never  fail." 
"Yes;  but  the  guilty  must  forsake  their  sinful 
thoughts,  and  I  cannot.      My  heart  is  steeped  in 
this  guilty  love.     If  my  master  but  looks  kindly  on 
me,  or  speaks  one  gentle  w^ord  to  me,  I  again  cling 
to  my  chains  and  fetters." 

"  Oh,  this  is  indeed  foolish  and  sinful  -,  how  can 
you  love  him  whom  you  confess  to  be  so  unworthy  V 
"  We  must  love  something,"  replied  the  boy,  in  a 
faint  voice,  his  head  sinking  on  his  bosom.  "My 
master  did  love  me,  and  nobody  else  ever  loved  me. 
I  never  knew  a  mother's  smile,  lady,  nor  felt  her 


HOPE    LESLIE.  99 

tears.  I  never  heard  a  father's  voice;  and  do  you 
think  it  so  very  strange  that  I  should  ding  to  him 
who  was  the  first,  the  only  one  that  ever  loved  me  1" 
He  paused  for  a  moment,  and  looked  eagerly  on 
Hope,  as  if  for  some  word  of  encouragement ;  but 
she  made  no  reply,  and  he  burst  into  a  passionate 
flood  of  tears,  and  wrung  his  hands,  saying,  "  Oh, 
yes,  it  is — I  know^  it  is  foolish  and  sinful,  and  I  try  to 
be  penitent.  I  say  my  paternosters,"  he  added,  ta- 
king a  rosary  from  his  bosom,  "  and  my  ave-maries^ 
but  I  get  no  heart's  ease;  and  by  times  my  head 
is  wild,  and  I  have  horrid  thoughts.  I  have  hated 
you,  lady — you,  who  look  so  like  an  angel  of  pity 
on  me ;  and  this  very  day,  when  I  saw  Sir  Philip 
hand  you  into  the  boat,  and  saw  you  sail  away  with 
him  over  the  bright  water  so  gay  and  laughing,  I 
could  have  plunged  this  dagger  into  your  bosom; 
and  I  made  a  solemn  vow  that  you  should  not  live 
to  take  the  place  of  honour  beside  my  master,  while 
I  was  cast  away  a  worthless  being." 

"  These  are  indeed  useless  vows  and  idle  thoughts," 
said  Hope.  "  I  cannot  longer  listen  to  you  now, 
for  I  am  very  sick  and  weary ;  but  do  not  grieve 
thus ;  come  to  me  to-morrow,  and  tell  me  all  your 
sorrows,  and  be  guided  by  me." 

"  Oh,  not  to-morrow !"  exclaimed  the  boy,  grasp- 
ing her  gown  as  she  rose  to  depart ;  "  not  to-morrow  ; 
I  hate  the  light  of  day ;  I  cannot  go  to  that  great 
house ;  I  have  no  longer  courage  to  meet  the  looks 
of  the  happy,  and  answer  their  idle  questions ;  stay 
now,  lady,  for  the  love  of  Heaven !  my  story  is 
short." 


100  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Hope  had  no  longer  the  power  of  deliberation  ; 
^e  did  not  even  hear  the  last  entreaty.  At  the  first 
movement  she  made,  the  sensation  of  giddiness  re- 
turned, every  object  seemed  to  swim  before  her,  and 
she  sunk,  fainting,  into  Roslin's  arms.  The  page  had 
now  an  opportunity  to  gratify  his  vindictive  passions, 
if  he  had  any ;  but  his  mad  jealousy  was  a  transient 
excitement  of  disordered  passion,  and  soon  gave  way 
to  the  spontaneous  emotions  of  a  gentle  and  tender 
nature.  He  carefully  sustained  his  burden,  and 
while  he  pressed  his  lips  to  Hope's  cold  brow,  with 
an  undefinable  sensation  of  joy  that  he  might  thus 
approach  angelic  purity,  he  listened  eagerly  to  the 
sound  of  footsteps,  and,  as  they  came  nearer,  he 
recognised  the  two  Fletchers,  with  a  company  of 
gentlemen,  guards,  and  sailors,  whom,  with  the  gov- 
ernor's assistance,  they  had  hastily  collected  to  go  in 
pursuit  of  our  heroine. 

Everell  was  the  first  to  perceive  her.  He  sprang 
towards  her,  and  when  he  saw  her  colourless  face 
and  lifeless  body,  he  uttered  an  exclamation  of  hor- 
ror. All  now  gathered  about  her,  listening  eagerly 
to  Roslin's  assurance  that  she  had  just  fainted,  com- 
plaining of  sickness  and  extreme  weariness.  He,  as 
our  readers  well  know^,  could  give  no  farther  expla- 
nation of  the  state  in  which  Miss  LesUe  was  found  ; 
indeed,  her  friends  scarcely  waited  for  any.  Everell 
wrapped  her  in  his  cloak,  and,  assisted  by  his  father, 
carried  her  in  his  arms  to  the  nearest  habitation, 
whence  she  was  conveyed,  as  soon  as  a  carriage  could 
be  obtained,  to  Governor  Winthrop's. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  101 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  He  that  questions  whether  God  made  the  world,  the  Indian  will 
teach  him.  I  must  acknowledge  I  have  received,  in  my  converse 
with  them,  many  confirmations  of  those  two  great  points  :  first,  that 
'  God  is  ;'  second,  '  that  he  is  a  rewarder  of  all  them  that  diligently 
serve  him.' " — Roger  Williams. 

Our  readers'  sagacity  has  probably  enabled  them 
to  penetrate  the  slight  mystery  in  which  the  circum- 
stances that  led  to  the  apprehension  of  Magawisca 
have  been  shrouded.  Sir  Philip  Gardiner,  after  at- 
tending Mrs.  Grafton  home  on  the  Saturday  night, 
memorable  in  the  history  of  our  heroine,  saw  her  en- 
ter the  burial-place.  Partly  moved  by  his  desire  to 
ascertain  whether  there  was  any  cause  for  her  run- 
ning away  from  him  that  might  sooth  his  vanity, 
and  partly,  no  doubt,  by  an  irresistible  attraction  to- 
wards her,  he  followed  at  a  prudent  distance  till 
he  saw  her  meeting  with  Magawisca ;  he  then  se- 
creted himself  in  the  thicket  of  evergreens,  where  he 
was  near  enough  to  hear  and  observe  all  that  passed  ; 
and  where,  as  may  be  remembered,  he  narrowly  es- 
caped being  exposed  by  his  dog. 

Sir  Philip  had  heard  the  rumour  of  a  conspiracy 
among  the  natives ;  and  when  he  saw  Magawisca's 
extreme  anxiety  to  secure  a  clandestine  interview 
with  Miss  Leslie,  the  probable  reason  for  her  secre- 
cy at  once  occurred  to  him.  If  he  conjectured  right- 
ly, he  was  in  possession  of  a  secret  that  might  be  of 
12 


102  HOPE    LESLIE. 

value  to  the  state,  and,  of  course,  be  made  the  means 
of  advancing  him  in  the  favour  of  the  governor. 
But  might  he  not  risk  incurring  Miss  Leshe's  dis- 
pleasure by  this  interposition  in  her  affairs,  and  thus 
forfeit  the  object  of  all  his  present  thoughts  and  ac- 
tions ?  He  believed  not.  He  saw  that  she  yielded 
reluctantly,  and  because  she  had  no  other  alterna- 
tive, to  Magawisca's  imposition  of  secrecy.  With 
her  romantic  notions,  it  was  most  probable  that  she 
would  hold  her  promise  inviolate;  but  would  she 
not  be  bound  in  everlasting  gratitude  to  him  who,  by 
an  ingenious  manoeuvre,  should,  without  in  the  least 
involving  her  honour,  secure  the  recovery  of  her  sis- 
ter 1  Thus  he  flattered  himself  he  should,  in  any 
event,  obtain  some  advantage.  To  Miss  Leslie  he 
would  appear  solely  actuated  by  zeal  for  her  happi- 
ness ;  to  the  governor,  by  devotion  to  the  safety  and 
welfare  of  the  Commonwealth. 

Accordingly,  on  the  following  Monday  morning, 
he  solicited  a  private  interview  with  the  magistrates, 
and  deposed  before  them  "  that,  on  returning  to  his 
lodgings  on  Saturday  night,  he  had  seen  Miss  Les- 
lie enter  the  burying-ground  alone;  that,  believing 
she  had  gone  to  visit  some  burial-spot  consecrated 
by  affection,  and  knowing  the  ardent  temper  of  the 
young  lady,  he  feared  she  might  forget,  in  the  in- 
dulgence of  her  feelings,  the  lateness  of  the  hour. 
He  had,  therefore,  with  the  intention  of  guarding  her 
from  all  harm,  without  intruding  on  her  meditations 
(which,  though  manifestly  unseasonable,  might,  he 
thought,  tend  to  edification),  followed  her,  and  se- 


HOPE     LESLIE.  103 

eluded  himself  in  the  copse  of  evergreens,  where,  to 
his  astonishment,  he  had  witnessed  her  interview 
with  the  Indian  woman."  The  particulars  of  their 
conversation  he  gave  at  length. 

Unfortunately  for  Magawisca,  Sir  Philip's  testi- 
mony corresponded  w-ith  the  story  of  a  renegado  In- 
dian, formerly  one  of  the  counsellors  and  favourites 
of  Miantunnomoh.  This  savage,  stung  by  some  real 
or  fancied  wrongs,  deserted  his  tribe,  and,  vowing 
revenge,  repaired  to  Boston,  and  divulged  to  the 
governor  the  secret  hostility  of  his  chief  to  the  Eng- 
lish, which,  he  said,  had  been  stimulated  to  activity 
by  the  old  Pequod  chief  and  the  renow^ned  maiden 
Magawisca. 

He  stated,  also,  that  the  chiefs  of  the  different 
tribes,  moved  by  the  eloquence  and  arguments  of 
Mononotto,  were  forming  a  powerful  combination. 
Thus  far  the  treacherous  savage  told  the  truth ;  but 
he  proceeded  to  state  plots  and  underplots,  and  art- 
fully to  exaggerate  the  number  and  power  of  the 
tribes.  The  magistrates  lent  a  believing  ear  to  the 
"whole  story.  They  were  aware  that  the  Narragan- 
setts,  ever  since  they  had  witnessed  the  defeat  and 
extinction  of  their  ancient  enemies  the  Pequods,  had 
felt  a  secret  dread  and  jealousy  of  the  power  and  en- 
croachments of  the  English,  and  that  they  only  wait- 
ed for  an  opportunity  to  manifest  their  hostility. 
Letters  had  been  recently  received  fi'om  the  magis- 
trates of  Connecticut,  expressing  their  belief  that  a 
general  rising  of  the  Indians  was  meditated.  All 
these  circumstances  combined  to  give  importance  to 


104  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Sir  Philip's  and  the  Indian's  communications.  But 
the  governor  felt  the  necessity  of  proceeding  warily. 

Miantunnomoh  had  been  the  faithful  friend  and 
ally  of  the  English.  He  is  described  by  Winthrop 
as  a  "  sagacious  and  subtle  man,  who  showed 
good  understanding  in  the  principles  of  justice  and 
equity,  and  ingenuity  withal."  Such  a  man  it  was 
obviously  the  policy  of  the  English  not  to  provoke ; 
and  the  governor  hoped,  by  getting  possession  of  the 
Pequod  family,  to  obtain  the  key  to  Miantunnomoh's 
real  designs,  and  to  crush  the  conspiracy  before  it 
was  matured. 

We  have  been  compelled  to  this  digression,  in 
order  to  explain  the  harsh  reception  and  treatment 
of  Magawisca ;  to  account  for  the  zeal  with  which 
the  governor  promoted  the  party  to  the  garden,  and 
for  the  signal  which  guided  the  boat  directly  to  the 
Pequod  family,  and  which  Sir  Philip  remained  on 
the  island  to  give.  The  knight  had  now  got  very 
deep  into  the  councils  and  favour  of  the  magistrates, 
who  saw  in  him  the  selected  medium  of  a  special 
kindness  of  Providence  to  them. 

He  took  good  care 

"  That  all  his  circling  wiles  should  end 
In  feign'd  religion,  smooth  hypocrisy  ;" 

and,  by  addressing  his  arts  to  the  predominant  tastes 
and  principles  of  the  honest  men  whom  he  deluded, 
he  well  sustained  his  accidental  advantage. 

It  would  be  vain  to  attempt  to  describe  the  vari- 
ous emotions  of  Governor  Winthrop's  family  at  the 
return  of  Hope  Leslie.     Madam  Winthrop,  over-ex- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  105 

cited  by  the  previous  events  of  the  evening,  had  for- 
tunately escaped  any  farther  agitation  by  retiring  to 
bed,  after  composing  her  nerves  with  a  draught  of 
valerian  tea.  Mrs.  Grafton,  who  had  been  trans- 
ported with  joy  at  the  unlooked-for  recovery  of 
Faith  Leslie,  was  carried  to  the  extreme  of  despair 
when  she  saw  the  lifeless  body  of  her  beloved  niece 
borne  to  her  apartment.  Poor  old  Cradock  went, 
like  a  certain  classic  bird,  "up  stairs  and  down 
stairs,"  wringing  his  hands,  and  sobbing  like  a  whip- 
ped boy.  The  elder  Fletcher  stood  bending  in  mute 
agony  over  the  child  of  his  affections,  whom  he 
loved  with  even  more  than  the  tenderness  of  a  pa- 
rent. His  tears,  like  those  of  old  and  true  Meneni- 
us,  seemed  "  Salter  than  a  younger  man's,  and  ven- 
omous to  his  eyes ;"  and  his  good  friend  Governor 
Winthrop,  when  he  saw  his  distress,  secretly  repent- 
ed that  he  had  acquiesced  in  a  procedure  that  had 
brought  such  misery  upon  this  much-enduring  man. 
Jennet  bustled  about,  appearing  to  do  everything, 
and  doing  nothing,  and  hoping  "  to  goodness'  sake 
the  young  lady  would  come  to  herself,  long  enough, 
at  least,  to  tell  what  had  befallen  her  :'^  "  she  al- 
ways thought,  she  did,  what  her  harem-scarem  ways 
would  bring  her  to  at  last."  Miss  Downing,  with- 
out regarding,  or  even  hearing,  these  and  many 
other  similar  mutterings,  proceeded  with  admirable 
presence  of  mind  to  direct  and  administer  all  the 
remedies  that  were  at  hand,  while  Everell,  almost 
distracted,  went  in  quest  of  medical  aid. 

A  delirious  fever  succeeded  to  unconsciousness; 


106  HOPE    LESLIE. 

and  for  three  days  Hope  Leslie's  friends  hung  over 
her  in  the  fear  that  every  hour  would  be  her  last. 
For  three  days  and  nights  Esther  Downing  never 
quitted  her  bedside,  except  to  go  to  the  door  of  the 
apartment  to  answer  Everell's  inquiries.  Her  sweet 
feminine  qualities  were  now  called  into  action :  she 
watched  and  prayed  over  her  friend ;  and,  though 
her  cheek  was  pale  and  her  eye  dim,  she  had  never 
appeared  half  so  lovely  to  Everell  as  when,  in  her 
^mple  linen  dressing-gown,  she  for  an  instant  left 
the  invalid  to  announce  some  favourable  symptom. 
On  the  fourth  morning  Hope's  fever  abated ;  her  in- 
coherent ravings  ceased,  and  she  sunk,  for  the  first 
time,  into  a  tranquil  sleep.  Esther  sat  perfectly  still 
by  her  bedside,  fearing  to  move,  lest  the  slightest 
noise  should  disturb  her ;  she  heard  Everell  walking 
in  the  entry,  as  he  had  done  incessantly,  and  stop- 
ping at  every  turn  to  listen  at  the  door.  Till  now, 
all  her  faculties  had  been  in  requisition — her  mind 
and  body  devoted  to  her  friend — she  had  not  thought 
of  herself;  and  if  sometimes  the  thought  of  Everell 
intruded,  she  blushed  at  what  she  deemed  the  unsub- 
dued selfishness  of  her  heart.  "  Alas !"  she  said,  "  I 
am  far  from  that  temper  which  leads  us  to  '  weep 
with  those  that  weep,'  if  I  suffer  thoughts  of  my  own 
happy  destiny  to  steal  in  when  my  friend  is  in  this 
extremity."  But  these  were  but  transient  emotions  : 
her  devotion  to  Hope  was  too  sincere  and  unremit- 
ting to  aiford  occasion  of  reproach  even  to  her 
watchful  and  accusing  conscience.  But  now,  as  she 
listened  to  Everell's  perturbed  footsteps,  a  new  train 


HOPE    LESLIE.  107 

of  thoughts  passed  through  her  mind.  "  Everell  has 
scarcely  quitted  that  station.  With  what  eagerness 
he  has  hung  over  my  words  when  I  spoke  of  Hope ! 
What  a  mortal  paleness  has  overspread  his  face  at 
every  new  alarm !  It  would  not,  perhaps,  have 
been  right,  but  methinks  it  would  have  been  natu- 
ral, that  he  should  have  expressed  some  concern  for 
me  :  I  cannot  remember  that  he  has.  How  often 
has  he  said  to  me,  '  Dear  Esther,  you  will  not  leave 
her  V  and,  '  For  the  love  of  Heaven,  trust  her  not  a 
moment  to  the  discretion  of  her  aunt;'  'Do  not 
confide  in  Jennet ;'  *  Madam  W^inthrop  has  too  many 
cares  for  so  delicate  a  charge :  all  depends  on  you, 
dear  Esther.'  Yes,  he  said  dear  Esther ;  but  how 
many  times  he  has  repeated  it,  as  if  his  life  were 
bound  up  in  hers.  If  I  w^ere  in  Hope's  condition, 
w^ould  he  feel  thus  ?  I  could  suffer  death  itself  for 
such  proofs  of  tenderness.  Sinful  worm  that  I  am, 
thus  to  dote  on  any  creature."  The  serenity  of  her 
mind  was  disturbed  :  she  rose  involuntarily  :  as  she 
rose,  her  gow^n  caught  in  her  chair,  and  overthrew 
it.  The  chair  fell  against  a  little  stand  by  the  bed- 
side, covered  with  vials,  cups,  and  spoons,  and  all 
were  overthrown,  with  one  of  those  horrible  clatters 
that  are  as  startling  in  a  sick-room  as  the  explosion 
of  a  magazine  at  midnight. 

Everell,  alarmed  by  the  unw^onted  noise,  instinct- 
ively opened  the  door  :  Hope  awoke  from  her  pro- 
found sleep  and  drew  aside  the  curtain ;  she  looked 
bewildered,  but  it  was  no  longer,  the  wildness  of  fe- 
ver :  thronging  and  indistinct  recollections  oppressed 


108  HOPE    LESLIE. 

her ;  but,  after  an  instant,  a  perfect  consciousness  of 
the  past  and  the  present  returned ;  she  covered  her 
eyes,  and  sank  back  on  her  pillow,  murmuring, 
"  Thank  God  !"  and  tears  of  gratitude  and  joy  stole 
over  her  cheeks. 

Esther  lost  every  other  emotion  in  unmixed  joy. 
She  went  to  the  door  to  Everell,  who  was  still 
standing  there  as  if  he  were  transfixed.  "  It  is  as 
you  see,"  she  said ;  "  the  danger  is  past  5  she  has 
slept  sweetly  for  three  hours,  and  was  now  only  dis- 
turbed by  my  carelessness :  go  to  your  father  with 
the  good  news ;  your  face  will  tell  it,  even  if  your 
lips  refuse,  as  they  do  now,  to  move." 

They  did  now  move,  and  the  joy  of  his  heart  broke 
forth  in  the  exclamation,  "  You  are  an  angel,  Es- 
ther !  My  father  owes  to  you  the  preservation  of  his 
dearest  treasure ;  and  I — I — my  life,  Esther,  shall 
prove  to  you  my  sense  of  what  I  owe  you." 

There  was  an  enthusiasm  in  his  manner  that  for 
the  first  time  satisfied  Esther's  feelings ;  but,  her  re- 
ligious sentiments  habitually  predominating  over  ev- 
ery other,  "  I  have  been  a  poor  but  honoured  instru- 
ment," she  said ;  "  let  us  all  carry  our  thanksgivings 
to  that  altar  where  they  are  due."  Then,  after  al- 
lowing Everell  to  press  her  hand  to  his  lips,  she 
closed  the  door,  and  returned  to  Hope's  bedside. 
Hope  again  put  aside  the  bed-curtain :  "  Is  not  my 
sister  here  1"  she  asked ;  "  she  must  be  here ;  and 
yet  I  can  scarcely  separate  my  dreams  from  the 
strange  accidents  of  that  night." 

"  She  is  here,  safe  and  well,  my  dear  Hope ;  but, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  109 

for  the  present,  you  must  be  content  not  to  see  her  : 
you  have  been  very  ill,  and  need  perfect  rest." 

"  I  feel  that  I  need  it,  Esther ;  but  I  must  first  know 
how  it  has  fared  with  Magawisca  ;  she  came  on  my 
solemn  promise  ;  1  trust  she  has  been  justly  dealt  by  : 
she  has  been  received  as  she  deserved,  Esther  ?" 

Esther  hesitated  ;  but,  seeing  Hope's  lip  quivering 
with  apprehension,  and  fearing  the  effects,  in  her 
weak  state,  of  any  new  agitation,  she,  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  condescended  to  an  equivocation, 
solacing  herself  with  thinking  that  she  ought  to  be- 
lieve that  perfectly  right  which  her  uncle  Winthrop 
appointed  :  she  said,  "  Magawisca  has  had  a  merit- 
ed reception  :  now  ask  no  more  questions,  Hope,  but 
compose  yourself  again  to  sleep."  If  Hope  had  had 
the  will,  she  had  not  the  power  to  disobey,  for  Nature 
will  not  be  rifled  of  her  dues.  But  we  must  leave 
her  to  the  restoring  influence  of  the  kindest  of  all  Na- 
ture's provisions,  to  visit  one  from  whom  care  and 
sorrow  banished  sleep. 

At  an  advanced  hour  of  the  following  evening,  Sir 
Philip  Gardiner  repaired  to  the  town  jail,  and  was 
admitted  by  its  keeper,  Barnaby  Tuttle.  The  knight 
produced  a  passport  to  the  cell  of  Thomas  Morton, 
and,  pointing  to  the  governor's  signature  and  seal, 
"  You  know  that,  friend  ]"  he  said. 

"  As  well  as  my  own  face ;  but  I  am  loath  to  lead 
a  gentleman  of  your  bearing  to  such  an  unsavoury 
place." 

"  Scruple  not,  honest  Master  Tuttle ;  duty  takes  no 
note  of  time  or  place." 

Vol.  IL— K 


110  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  You  shall  be  served,  sir,  and  with  the  better  will, 
since  you  seem  to  be,  as  it  were,  of  a  God-serving 
turn;  but  walk  in,  your  w^orship,  and  sit  down  in  my 
bit  of  a  place,  which,  though  a  homely  one,  and  with- 
in the  four  walls  of  a  jail,  is,  I  thank  the  Lord,  like 
that  into  which  Paul  and  Silas  w^ere  thrust,  a  place 
where  prayers  and  praises  are  often  heard." 

Barnaby  now  lighted  a  candle,  and  while  Sir  Phil- 
ip was  awaiting  his  dilatory  preparations,  he  could 
not  but  wonder  that  a  man  of  his  appearance  should 
have  been  selected  for  an  office  that  is  usually  sup- 
posed to  require  a  muscular  frame,  strong  nerves, 
and  a  hardy  spirit.  Barnaby  Tuttle  had  none  of 
these  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  was  a  man  of  small  stat- 
ure, meager  person,  and  a  pale  and  meek  counte- 
nance, that  bespoke  the  disposition  that  lets  "  I  dare 
not  wait  upon  I  would." 

''  Have  you  been  long  in  this  service  of  jailer  1" 
asked  Sir  Philip. 

"  Six  years,  an  please  your  worship,  come  the  10th 
day  of  next  October,  at  eight  o'clock  of  the  morning. 
I  had  long  been  a  servant  in  the  governor's  own 
household,  and  he  gave  me  the  office,  as  he  was 
pleased  to  say,  because  he  knew  me  trustworthy,  and 
a  merciful  man." 

"  But  mercy,  Master  Barnaby,  is  not  held  to  be  a 
special  qualification  for  those  of  your  calling." 

"  It  is  not,  sir  ?  Well,  I  can  tell  your  honour 
there's  no  place  it's  more  wanted ;  and  here,  in  our 
new  English  colony,  we  have  come,  as  it  were,  un- 
der a  new  dispensation.     Our  prisoners  are  seldom 


HOPE    LESLIE.  Ill 

put  in  for  those  crimes  that  fill  the  jails  in  Old  Eng- 
land. Since  I  have  been  keeper — six  years  next 
October,  as  I  told  you  it  is — I  have  had  but  few  in 
for  stealing,  and  one  for  murder ;  and  that  was  a  dis- 
puted case,  there  being  no  clear  testimony  ;  but,  as 
he  was  proved  to  have  lived  an  atheist  life,  he  was 
condemned  to  die,  and  at  the  last  confessed  many 
sore  offences,  wdiich,  as  Mr.  Cotton  observed  in  his 
sermon,  preached  the  next  Lord's  day,  were  each 
and  all  held  w^orthy  of  death  by  the  laws  of  Moses. 
No,  sir,  our  prisoners  are  chiefly  those  who  are  led 
astray  of  the  devil  into  divers  errors  of  opinions,  or 
those  who  commit  such  sins  as  are  named  at  length 
in  the  Levitical  law." 

"  Ah,"  said  Sir  Philip,  with  a  well-pitched  groan, 
"  the  depravity  of  man  will  find  a  channel ;  stop  it 
at  one  place,  and  it  will  out  at  another.  But  come, 
friend  Barnaby,  time  is  going  on  :  I'll  follow  you." 
The  jailer  now  led  the  way  through  a  long,  narrow 
passage,  with  doors  on  each  side  which  opened  into 
small  apartments.  "  Hark  !"  said  Barnaby,  laying 
his  hand  on  Sir  Philip's  arm  ;  "  hear  you  that  1  It's 
Gorton  praying :  he  and  his  company  are  all  along 
in  these  wards ;  and  betimes  I  hear  them  calling  on 
the  Lord,  like  Daniel  in  the  lions'  den,  for  hours  to- 
gether. I  hope  it's  not  a  sin  to  feel  for  such  woful 
heretics,  for  I  have  dropped  salt  tears  for  them. 
Does  not  your  honour  think  our  magistrates  may 
have  some  way  opened  up  for  their  pardon  ?" 

"  I  see  not  how  they  can.  Master  Barnaby,  unless 
these  sore  revilers  should  renounce  their  heresies, 


112  HOPE    LESLIE. 

or,"  he  added,  with  an  involuntary  sneer,  fortunate- 
ly for  him,  unobserved  by  his  simple  companion, "  or 
their  title  to  the  Indian  lands." 

They  had  now  arrived  at  one  extremity  of  the  pas- 
sage, and  Barnaby  selected  a  key  from  his  bunch ; 
but,  before  putting  it  in  the  lock,  he  said, "  Morton  is 
in  a  little  room  within  the  Indian  woman's,  taken 
the  other  day." 

"  So  I  understand ;  and  by  your  leave,  Master 
Tuttle,  I  would  address  a  private  admonition  to  this 
Indian  woman,  w^ho,  as  report  saith,  is  an  obstinate 
heathen." 

"  I  suppose  she  is,  your  honour  ;  they  that  should 
know  say  so.  But  she  hath  truly  a  discreet  and  quiet 
way  with  her,  that  I  would  was  more  common  among 
Christian  women.  But,  as  you  say  you  wish  to  speak 
in  private,  I  must  beg  your  honour's  pardon  for  turn- 
ing my  bolt  on  you.  I  will  give  you  the  light,  and 
the  key  to  the  inner  room ;  and  when  you  desire  my 
attendance,  you  have  but  to  pull  a  cord  that  hangs 
by  the  frame  of  the  door  inside,  and  rings  a  bell  in 
the  passage :  one  word  more,  your  honour — be  on 
your  guard  w'hen  you  go  into  Morton's  cell.  He 
raves,  by  times,  as  if  all  the  fiends  possessed  him ; 
and  then,  again,  he  sings  and  dances,  as  if  he  were 
at  his  revels  on  the  Merry  Mount ;  and  by  times  he 
cries — the  poor  old  man — like  a  baby,  for  the  twen- 
ty-four hours  round ;  so  that  I  cannot  but  think  a 
place  in  the  London  Hospital  would  be  fitter  for 
him  than  this." 

"  Your  feelings  seem  not  to  suit  with  the  humour 
of  your  profession,  Master  Tuttle." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  113 

"  Maybe  not,  sir ;  but  there  is  a  pleasure  in  a  pit- 
iful feeling,  let  your  outward  work  be  ever  so  hard, 
as,  doubtless,  your  worship  well  knows." 

Sir  Philip  felt  that  conscience  sent  a  burning 
blush  to  his  hardened  cheek ;  and  he  said,  with  an 
impatient  tone,  "  I  have  my  instructions :  let  me 
pass  in,  Master  Tuttle."  Barnaby  unlocked  the 
door,  gave  him  the  candle,  and  then  turned  the  bolt 
upon  him. 

Magawisca  was  slowly  pacing  the  room  to  and 
fro ;  she  stopped,  uttered  a  faint  exclamation  at  the 
sight  of  her  visiter,  then  turned  away  as  if  disap- 
pointed, and  resumed  her  melancholy  step.  Sir 
Philip  held  up  his  candle  to  survey  the  apartment. 
It  was  a  room  of  ordinary  size,  with  one  small  gra- 
ted window,  and  containing  a  flock-bed  and  a  three- 
legged  stool,  on  which  stood  a  plate  of  untasted  pro- 
visions. 

"  Truly,"  said  he,  advancing  into  the  room, "  gen- 
erous entertainment,  this,  for  a  hapless  maiden." 
Magawisca  made  no  reply,  and  gave  no  heed  to  him, 
and  he  proceeded :  "  A  godly  and  gallant  youth, 
that  Everell  Fletcher,  to  suffer  one  who  risked  her 
life,  and  cast  away  a  precious  limb  for  him,  to  lie 
forgotten  here.  Methinks,  if  he  had  a  spark  of  thy 
noble  nature,  maiden,  he  would  burn  the  town,  or 
batter  down  this  prison  wall  for  you."  An  irrepress- 
ible groan  escaped  from  Magawisca,  but  she  spoke 
not. 

"  He  leaves  you  here,  alone  and  helpless,  to  await 
death,"  continued  the  knight,  thus  venting  his  ma- 
K  2 


114  HOPE    LESLIE. 

lignity  against  Everell,  though  he  saw  that  every 
word  was  a  torturing  knife  to  the  innocent  maiden ; 
"  death,  the  only  boon  you  can  expect  from  these 
most  Christian  magistrates ;  while  he,  with  a  light 
heart  and  smirking  face,  is  dancing  attendance  on 
his  lady-love." 

"  On  whom  V  interrupted  Magawisca,  in  a  tone 
of  fearful  impatience. 

"  Ofi  her  who  played  so  faithfully  the  part  of  de- 
coy-pigeon to  thee." 

"  Hope  Leslie !     My  father,  then,  is  taken  V  she 
screamed. 

"  Nay,  nay,  not  so ;  thy  father  and  brother  both, 
by  some  wondrous  chance,  escaped." 

"  Dost  thou  speak  truth  ?"  demanded  Magawisca, 
in  a  thrilling  voice,  and  looking  in  Sir  Philip's  face 
as  if  she  would  penetrate  his  soul ;  "  I  doubt  thee." 
The  knight  opportunely  bethought  himself  of  hav- 
ing heard  Magawisca,  during  her  interview  with 
Hope  Leslie,  allude  to  the  Romish  religion  :  he  took 
a  crucifix  from  his  bosom,  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 
"  Then,  by  this  holy  sign,"  he  said,  "  of  which,  if 
you  know  aught,  you  know  that  to  use  it  falsely 
would  bring  death  to  my  soul,  I  swear  I  speak  truly." 
Magawisca  again  turned  away  ;  and  drawing  her 
mantle,  which,  in  her  emotion,  had  fallen  back,  close 
over  her  shoulders,  she  continued  to  pace  the  apart- 
ment without  bestowing  even  a  look  on  Sir  Philip, 
who  felt  himself  in  an  awkward  predicament,  and 
found  it  difficult  to  rally  his  spirits  to  prosecute  the 
object  of  his  visit.     But  habitually  confident,  and, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  115 

like  all  bad  men,  distrusting  the  existence  of  incor- 
ruptible virtue,  he  soon  shook  off  his  embarrassment, 
and  said,  "I  doubt,  maiden,  you  would  breathe 
more  freely  in  the  wild  wood  than  in  this  stifling 
prison,  and  sleep  more  quietly  on  the  piled  leaves 
of  your  forests  than  on  that  bed  that  Christian  love 
has  spread  for  you."  Magawisca  neither  manifest- 
ed by  word  nor  sign  that  she  heard  him,  and  he  pro- 
ceeded more  explicitly  :  "  Do  you  sigh  for  the  free- 
dom of  Nature  7     Would  you  be  restored  to  it  ?" 

"  Would  I !  would  the  imprisoned  bird  return  to 
its  nestlings  ?"  She  now  stopped,  and  looked  with 
eager  inquiry  on  Sir  Philip. 

"  Then  listen  to  me,  and  you  shall  learn  by  what 
means  and  on  what  terms  you  may  escape  from  this 
prison,  and  beyond  the  reach  of  your  enemies. 
Here,"  he  continued,  producing  from  beneath  his 
cloak  a  rope  ladder  and  a  file  and  wrench,  "  here 
are  instruments  by  which  you  can  remove  those  bars, 
and  by  which  you  may  safely  descend  to  the  ground." 

"  Tell  me,"  cried  IMagawisca,  a  ray  of  joy  light- 
ing her  eyes,  "  tell  me  how  I  shall  use  them." 

Sir  Philip  explained  the  mode,  enjoined  great  cau- 
tion, and  then  proceeded  to  say,  "  By  to-morrow 
night  at  twelve  you  can  remove  the  bars ;  the  town 
will  then  be  still ;  proceed  directly  to  the  point 
where  you  last  landed,  and  a  boat  shall  there  be  in 
readiness,  well  manned,  to  convey  you  beyond  dan- 
ger." 

"  Well — well,"  she  replied,  with  breathless  eager- 
ness, "  now  tell  me  what  I  am  to  do ;  what  a  poor 


116  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Indian  prisoner  can  do  to  requite  such  a  favour  as 
this  V 

Sir  Phihp  began  a  reply,  stammered,  and  paused. 
He  seemed  to  turn  and  turn  his  purpose,  and  en- 
deavoured to  shelter  it  in  some  drapery  that  should 
hide  its  ugliness ;  but  this  was  beyond  his  art ;  and, 
summoning  impudence  to  his  aid,  he  said,  "  I  have 
a  young  damsel  with  me,  who  for  silly  love  followed 
me  out  of  England.  Now,  you  forester  maiden,  who 
live  according  to  the  honesty  of  Nature,  you  could 
not  understand  me  if  I  were  to  tell  you  of  the  cruel 
laws  of  the  world,  which  oblige  this  poor  girl  to  dis- 
guise herself  in  man's  apparel,  and  counterfeit  the 
duties  of  a  page,  that  she  may  conceal  her  love. 
She  hath  become  somewhat  troublesome  to  me  :  all 
that  I  ask  as  the  price  of  your  liberty  is,  that  she  may 
be  the  companion  of  your  flight." 

"  Doth  she  go  wiUingly  ?" 

"  Nay,  not  willingly  ;  but  she  is  young,  and,  like 
a  tender  twig,  you  can  bend  her  at  will ;  all  I  ask 
is  your  promise  that  she  return  not." 

"But  if  she  resist?" 

"  Act  your  pleasure  with  her ;  yet  I  would  not 
that  she  were  harmed.  You  may  give  her  to  your 
brother  in  the  place  of  this  fair-haired  damsel  they 
have  stolen  from  him ;  or,"  he  added,  for  he  saw 
that  Magawisca's  brow  contracted,  "  or,  if  that  suits 
not  you  nor  him,  you  may  take  her  to  your  western 
forests,  and  give  her  to  a  Romish  priest,  who  will 
guide  her  to  the  Hotel  Dieu  w4iich  our  good  Lady 
of  Bouillon  has  estabhshed  in  Canada."     Majrawis- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  117 

ca  dropped  at  his  feet  the  instruments  which  she  had 
grasped  with  such  deUght.  "  Nay,  nay,  bethink  you, 
maiden,  it  is  a  small  boon  to  return  for  liberty  and 
life  ;  for,  trust  me,  if  you  remain  here  they  w^ill  not 
spare  your  life." 

"  And  dost  thou  think,"  she  replied, "  that  I  would 
make  my  heart  as  black  as  thine  to  save  my  life  ? 
Life  !  Dost  thou  not  know  that  life  can  only  be  aba- 
ted by  those  evil  deeds  forbidden  by  the  Great  Mas- 
ter of  Life  1  The  writing  of  the  Great  Spirit  has 
surely  vanished  from  thy  degraded  soul,  or  thou 
wouldst  know  that  man  cannot  touch  life !  Life  is 
naught  but  the  image  of  the  Great  Spirit;  and  he 
hath  most  of  it  who  sends  it  back  most  true  and  un- 
broken, like  the  perfect  image  of  the  clear  heavens 
in  the  still  lake." 

Sir  Philip's  eye  fell,  and  his  heart  quailed  before 
the  lofty  glance  and  unsullied  spirit  of  the  Indian 
maiden.  Once  he  looked  askance  at  her,  but  it  was 
with  such  a  look  as  Satan  eyed  the  sun  in  his  "  high 
meridian  tower."  With  a  feeling  of  almost  insup- 
portable meanness,  he  collected,  and  again  conceal- 
ed beneath  his  cloak,  the  ladder  and  other  instru- 
ments, which  he  had  been  at  no  small  pains  to  pro- 
cure, and  was  turning  to  summon  Barnaby  by  ring- 
ing the  bell,  when  he  suddenly  recollected  that 
Thomas  Morton  had  been  the  ostensible  motive  of 
his  visit,  and  that  it  was  but  a  prudent  precaution 
to  look  in  upon  him  for  an  instant ;  and  feeling  too, 
perhaps,  a  slight  curiosity  to  see  the  companion  of 
his  former  excesses,  he  changed  his  purpose,  turned 
to  Morton's  door,  unlocked  and  opened  it. 


118  HOPE    LESLIE. 

The  old  man  seemed  to  have  shrunk  away  as  if 
frightenedj  and  was  gathered  up  almost  into  a  ball 
in  one  corner  of  his  miserable  little  squalid  den.  A 
few  remnants  of  his  garments  hung  like  shreds  about 
him.  Every  particle  of  his  hair  had  dropped  out; 
his  grizzly  beard  was  matted  together;  his  eyes 
gleamed  like  sparks  of  fire  in  utter  darkness.  Sir 
Philip  was  transfixed.  "  Is  this,"  he  thought,  "Mor- 
ton !  the  gentleman — the  gallant  cavalier — the  man 
of  pleasure  7  Good  God !  the  girl  hath  truly  spoken 
of  life !"  While  he  stood  thus,  the  old  man  sprang 
on  him  like  a  cat,  pulled  him  within  the  door,  and 
then,  with  the  action  of  madness,  swift  as  thought, 
he  seized  the  key,  locked  the  door  on  the  inside, 
and  threw  the  key  through  the  bars  of  the  window 
without  the  prison.  The  candle  had  fallen  and  was 
extinguished,  and  Sir  Philip  found  himself  immured, 
with  his  scarcely  human  companion,  in  total  dark- 
ness, without  any  means  of  rescue  excepting  through 
Magawisca.  His  first  impulse  was  to  entreat  her  to 
ring  the  bell ;  but  he  delayed  for  a  moment,  lest  he 
should  heighten  the  old  man's  paroxysm  of  madness. 
In  this  interval  of  silence  Magawisca  fancied  she 
heard  a  sound  against  her  window,  and,  on  going 
to  it,  perceived,  though  the  night  was  extremely 
dark,  a  ladder  resting  against  the  bars;  she  listen- 
ed, and  heard  a  footstep  ascending ;  then  there  was 
a  wrestling  in  Morton's  ropm,  and  screams,  "  He'll 
kill  me — -ring  the  bell."  Again  all  w^as  still,  and 
she  heard  from  the  ground  below,  "  Come  down, 
Mr.  Everell,  for  the  love  of  Heaven  come  down." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  119 

The  words  were  uttered  in  a  tone  hardly  above  a 
whisper. 

*'  Hush,  Digby,  I  will  not  come  down !" 

"Then  you  are  lost 3  those  cries  will  certainly 
alarm  the  guard." 

"  Hush !  the  cries  have  ceased."  Everell  mount- 
ed quite  to  the  window,  quick  as  if  he  had  risen  on 
wings. 

"  He  is  true !"  thought  Magawisca ;  and  it  seemed 
to  her  that  her  heart  would  burst  with  joy,  but  she 
could  not  speak.  He  applied  an  instrument  to  one 
of  the  iron  bars,  and  wrenched  it  off.  Repeated  and 
louder  cries  of  "  Murder !  help  !  ring  the  bell !"  now 
proceeded  from  Gardiner,  and  the  old  maniac  seem- 
ed determined  to  outroar  him.  Again  the  noise 
ceased,  and  again  Digby  spoke  in  a  more  agitated 
voice  than  before.  "  Oh,  they  are  stirring  in  the 
yard  j  come  away,  Mr.  Everell." 

"  I  will  not — I  had  rather  die ;  stand  fast,  Digby ; 
one  bar  more,  and  she  is  free  j"  and  again  he  ap- 
plied the  instrument. 

"  Are  you  mad  1"  exclaimed  Digby,  in  a  more 
raised  and  eager  voice ;  "  I  tell  you  the  lights  are 
coming;  if  you  do  not  escape  now,  nothing  can 
ever  be  done  for  her." 

This  last  argument  had  the  intended  effect.  Ever- 
ell felt  that  all  hope  of  extricating  Magawisca  de- 
pended on  his  now  eluding  discovery ;  and  with  an 
exclamation  of  bitter  disappointment,  he  relinquish- 
ed the  enterprise  for  the  present,  and  descending  a 
fev7  rounds  of  the  ladder,  leaped  to  the  ground,  and, 


120  HOPE    LESLIE. 

with  DIgby,  disappeared  before  the  guard  reached 
the  spot  of  operations.  Magawisca  saw  two  of  the 
men  go  off  in  pursuit,  while  the  other  remained  pick- 
ing up  the  implements  that  Everell  had  dropped,  and 
muttering  something  of  old  Barnaby  sleeping  as  if  he 
slept  his  last  sleep. 

Relieved  from  the  sad  conviction  of  Everell's  de- 
sertion and  ingratitude,  Magawisca  seemed  for  a  mo- 
ment to  float  on  happiness,  and,  in  her  exultation,  to 
forget  the  rocks  and  quicksands  that  encompassed 
her.  Another  outcry  from  Sir  Philip  recalled  her 
thoughts,  and,  obeying  the  first  impulse  of  humanity, 
she  rang  the  bell  violently.  Barnaby  soon  appeared 
with  a  lamp  and  keys,  and  learning  the  durance  of 
Sir  Philip,  he  hastened  to  his  relief.  A  key  was 
found  to  unlock  the  door,  and,  on  opening  it,  the 
knight's  terror  and  distress  were  fully  explained. 
Morton  had  thrown  him  on  his  back,  and  pinned  him 
to  the  floor  by  planting  his  knee  on  Sir  Philip's 
breast,  and  had  interrupted  his  cries,  and  almost  suf- 
focated him,  by  stuffing  his  cloak  into  his  mouth.  At 
the  sight  of  his  keeper  the  maniac  sprang  off",  and, 
with  a  sort  of  inarticulate  chattering  and  laughing, 
resumed  his  old  station  in  the  corner,  apparently  quite 
unconscious  that  he  had  moved  from  it. 

Sir  Philip  darted  out,  and  shut  the  door  as  if  he 
were  closing  a  tiger's  cage ;  and  then,  in  wrath  that 
overswelled  all  limits,  he  turned  upon  poor  Barnaby, 
and  shaking  him  till  his  old  bones  seemed  to  rattle 
in  their  thin  casement,  he  poured  out  on  him  curses 
deep  and  loud  for  leading  him  into  that  "  devil's 


HOPE    LESLIE.  121 

den."  Magawisca  interposed  ;  but,  instead  of  calm- 
ing his  wrath,  she  only  drew  it  on  herself.  He  swore 
he  would  be  revenged  on  her, "  d — d  Indian  that  she 
was,  to  stand  by  and  not  lift  her  hand  when  she  knew 
he  w^as  dying  by  torture."  Magawisca  did  not 
vouchsafe  any  other  reply  to  this  attack  than  a  look 
of  calm  disdain  ;  and  Barnaby,  now  recovering  from 
the  fright  and  amazement  into  which  Sir  Philip's 
violence  had  thrown  him,  held  up  his  lamp,  and 
reconnoitring  the  knight's  face  and  person,  "  It  is 
the  same,"  he  said,  resolving  his  honest  doubts,  *'  the 
same  I  let  in  :  circumstances  alter  cases,  and  men 
too,  I  think  :  why,  I  took  him  for  as  godly  a  seem- 
ing man  as  ever  I  laid  my  eyes  on — a  yea  and  nay 
Pilgrim ;  but  such  profane  swearing  exceedeth  Chad- 
dock's  men,  or  Chaddock  either,  or  the  master  they 
serve." 

"  Prate  not,  you  canting  villain  :  why  did  not  you 
come  when  you  heard  my  cries  7  or  where  was  you 
that  you  heard  them  not  V 

"  Just  taking  a  little  nap  in  my  rocking-chair ;  and 
I  said  to  myself  as  I  sat  myself  down,  *  Now,  Bar- 
naby, if  you  should  happen  to  fall  out  of  your  medi- 
tation into  sleep,  remember  to  wake  at  the  ringing  of 
the  bell ;'  and,  accordingly,  at  the  very  first  touch  of 
it  I  was  on  my  feet  and  coming  hitherward." 

Sir  Philip's  panic  and  WTath  had  now  so  far  sub- 
sided that  he  perceived  there  w^as  an  alarming  dis- 
cordance between  his  extempore  conduct  and  his 
elaborate  pretensions;  and,  reassuming  his  mask  with 
an   awkward   suddenness,  he   said,  "  Well,   well. 

Vol.  II.— L 


122  HOPE    LESLIE. 

friend  Barnaby,  we  will  both  forgive  and  forget.  I 
will  say  nothing  of  your  sleeping  soundly  at  your 
post,  when  you  have  such  dangerous  prisoners  in 
ward  that  the  governor  has  thought  it  necessary  to 
give  you  a  guard ;  and  you,  good  Barnaby,  will  say 
nothing  of  my  having  for  a  moment  lost  the  com- 
mand of  my  reason ;  though,  being  so  sorely  bestead, 
and  having  but  a  poor  human  nature,  I  think  I  should 
not  be  hardly  judged  by  merciful  men." 

"  As  to  forgiving  and  forgetting,  your  worship," 
replied  the  good-natured  fellow,  "  that  I  can  do  as 
easily  as  another  man,  but  not  from  any  dread  of 
your  tale-bearing ;  for  I  think  the  governor  hath 
sent  the  guard  here  partly  in  consideration  of  my 
age  and  feebleness;  and  I  fear  not  undue  blame. 
Therefore,  not  for  my  own  by-ends  will  I  keep  close, 
but  that  I  hold  it  not  neighbourly  to  speak  to  anoth- 
er's hurt;  and  I  well  know  it  is  but  the  topmost 
saints  that  are  always  in  the  exercise  of  grace.  But 
I  marvel,  your  worship,  that  ye  spoke  those  evil 
words  so  glibly :  it  seemed  like  one  casting  away 
stilts,  and  going  on  his  own  feet  again." 

"  All  the  fault  of  an  ungodly  youth,  worthy  Mas- 
ter Tuttle,"  replied  Sir  Philip,  rolling  up  his  eyes 
sanctimoniously ;  "  and  he  who  ensnared  my  soul, 
thy  miserable  prisoner  there,  is  now  reaping  the 
Lord's  judgments  therefor." 

*'  I  think  it  is  not  profitable,"  said  the  simple  man, 
as  he  led  the  way  out  of  the  prison,  "  to  cast  up 
judgments  at  any  one ;  we  are  all — as  your  worship 
has  just  suddenly  and  wofully  experienced — we  are 


HOPE    LESLIE.  123 

all  liable  to  falls  in  this  slippery  world ;  and  I  have 
always  thought  it  a  more  prudent  and  Christian  part 
to  lend  a  helping  hand  to  a  fallen  brother,  than  to 
stand  by  and  laugh  at  him,  or  flout  him." 

Sir  Philip  hurried  away  ;  every  virtuous  sentiment 
fell  on  his  ear  like  a  rebuke.  Even  in  an  involun- 
tary comparison  of  himself  with  the  simple  jailer,  he 
felt  that  genuine  goodness,  dimmed  and  sulHed 
though  it  may  be  by  ignorance  and  fanaticism,  like 
a  good  dull  guinea,  rings  true  at  every  trial ;  while 
hypocrisy,  though  it  show  a  face  fair  and  bright,  yet, 
like  a  new  false  coin,  betrays  at  every  scratch  the 
base  metal. 

Perhaps  no  culprit  ever  turned  his  back  on  a  jail 
with  a  more  thorouoh  conviction  that  he  deserved 

o 

there  to  be  incarcerated  than  did  Sir  Philip.  De- 
tection in  guilt  is  said  marvellously  to  enlighten 
men's  consciences :  there  may  be  a  kindred  virtue 
in  disappointment  in  guilty  projects.  The  knight 
had  become  impatient  of  his  tedious  masquerade. 
He  was  at  first  diverted  w^ith  a  new,  and,  as  it  seem- 
ed to  him,  a  fantastical  state  of  society,  and  amused 
at  the  success  with  which  he  played  his  assumed 
character.  He  soon  became  passionately  enamoured 
of  Hope  Leslie,  and  pursued  her  with  a  determined, 
unwavering  resolution,  that,  vacillating  as  he  had 
always  been,  astonished  himself.  In  the  eagerness 
of  the  chase,  he  underrated  the  obstacles  that  op- 
posed him,  and,  above  all,  the  insuperable  obstacle, 
the  manifest  indifference  of  the  young  lady,  which 
his  vanity  (must  we  add,  his  experience)  led  him  to 


124  HOPE    LESLIE, 

believe  was  affectation,  whim,  or  accident ;  any  or  all 
of  these  might  be  successfully  opposed  and  overcome. 
He  had  tried  to  probe  her  feelings  in  relation  to 
Everell,  and,  though  he  was  puzzled  by  the  result, 
and  knew  not  what  it  meant,  he  trusted  it  did  not 
mean  love.  But  if  it  did,  what  girl  of  Hope  Leshe's 
spirit,  he  asked  himself,  would  remain  attached  to  a 
drivelling  fellow,  who,  from  complaisance  to  the 
washes  of  prosing  old  men,  had  preferred  to  her  such 
a  statue  of  formality  and  Puritanism  as  Esther  Down- 
ing ?  and,  Everell  removed.  Sir  Philip  feared  no 
other  competitor ;  for  he  counted  for  nothing  those 
gentlemen  who  might  aspire  to  Miss  Leslie's  hand, 
but  whose  strict  obedience  to  the  canons  of  Puritan- 
ism left  them,  as  he  thought,  few  of  the  qualities 
that  were  likely  to  interest  a  romantic  imagination. 
For  himself,  determined  not  to  jeopard  his  success  by 
wearing  his  sanctimonious  mask  to  Hope,  he  played 
the  magician  wdth  two  faces,  and  to  her  he  was  the 
gay  and  gallant  chevalier;  his  formality,  his  pre- 
ciseness,  and  every  badge  and  insignia  of  the  Puritan 
school  were  dropped,  and  he  talked  of  love  and  po- 
etry like  any  carpet-knight  of  those  days,  or  draw- 
ing-room lover  of  our  own.  But  this  was  a  danger- 
ous game  to  play,  and  must  not  be  protracted.  Some 
untoward  accident  might  awaken  the  guardians  of 
the  colony  from  their  credulous  confidence,  and  to 
this  danger  his  wayward  page  continually  exposed 
him. 

As  our  readers  are  already  acquainted  with  the 
real  character  of  this  unhappy  victim  of  Sir  Philip's 


HOPE    LESLIE.  125 

profligacy,  it  only  remains  to  give  the  few  untold 
circumstances  of  her  brief  history.  She  was  the  nat- 
ural child  of  an  English  nobleman.  Her  mother  was 
a  distinguished  French  actress,  who,  dying  soon  af- 
ter her  birth,  committed  the  child  to  some  charitable 
sisters  of  the  order  of  St.  Joseph.  Her  father^  on  his 
death-bed,  seized  by  the  pangs  of  remorse,  exacted 
a  promise  from  his  sister,  the  Lady  Lunford,  that  she 
w^ould  receive  the  orphan  under  her  protection.  The 
lady  performed  the  promise  a  la  lettre,  and  no  more. 
She  withdrew  the  unfortunate  Rosa  from  her  safe 
asylum,  but  she  kept  from  her,  and  from  all  the 
world,  the  secret  of  their  relationship,  and  made  the 
dependance  and  desolateness  of  the  poor  orphan  a 
broad  foundation  for  her  own  tyranny.  Lady  Lun- 
ford was  a  woman  of  the  world — a  waning,  Rosa,  a 
ripening  beauty.  Her  house  was  the  resort  of  men 
of  fashion.  Sir  Philip  paid  his  devotions  there,  os- 
tensibly to  the  noble  mistress,  but  really  to  the  young 
creature  whose  melting  eyes,  naivete,  and  strong  and 
irrepressible  feelings  enchanted  him.  Probably  Lady 
Lunford  found  the  presence  of  the  young  beauty  in- 
convenient. She  certainly  never  threw  any  obstacle 
in  Sir  Philip's  way  ;  indeed,  he  afterward  cruelly 
boasted  to  Rosa  that  her  patroness  had  persuaded 
him  to  receive  her ;  but  this  was  long  after  :  for 
many  months  he  treated  her  with  the  fondest  devo- 
tion ;  and  she,  poor  credulous  child,  was  first  awa- 
kened from  dreams  of  love  and  happiness  by  pangs 
of  jealousy. 

From  her  own  confessions.  Sir  Philip  learned  how 
L  2 


126  IIOrE    LESLIE. 

far  she  had  divulged  her  sorrows  to  Hope  Leslie, 
and  from  that  moment  he  meditated  some  mode  of 
secretly  and  suddenly  ridding  himself  of  her,  and 
finally  determined  on  the  project  which,  as  we  have 
seen,  was  wofully  defeated  ;  and  he  was  compelled 
to  retreat  from  Magawisca's  prison  with  the  torment- 
ing apprehension  that  he  might  himself  fall  into  the 
pit  he  had  digged. 

Let  those  who  have  yet  to  learn  in  what  happi- 
ness consists,  and  its  actual  independence  of  exter- 
nal circumstances,  turn  from  the  gifted  and  accom- 
plished man  of  the  world  to  the  Indian  prisoner ; 
from  the  baffled  tempter  to  the  victorious  tempted. 
Magawusca  could  scarcely  have  been  made  happier 
if  Everell  had  achieved  her  freedom,  than  she  was  by 
the  certain  knowledge  of  his  interposition  for  her. 
The  sting  of  his  supposed  ingratitude  had  been  her 
sharpest  sorrow^  Her  affection  for  Everell  Fletcher 
had  the  tenderness,  the  confidence,  the  sensitiveness 
of  w^oman's  love  ;  but  it  had  nothing  of  the  selfish- 
ness, the  expectation,  or  the  earthliness  of  that  pas- 
sion. She  had  done  and  suffered  much  for  him,  and 
she  felt  that  his  worth  must  be  the  sole  requital  for 
her  sufferings.  She  felt,  too,  that  she  had  received 
much  from  him.  He  had  opened  the  book  of  knowl- 
edge to  her  ;  had  given  subjects  to  her  contemplative 
mind  beyond  the  mere  perceptions  of  her  senses; 
had  in  some  measure  dissipated  the  clouds  of  igno- 
rance that  hung  over  the  forest  child,  and  given  her 
ghmpses  of  the  past  and  the  distant ;  but,  above  all, 
he  had  gratified  her  strong  national  pride  by  ad- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  127 

mitting  the  natural  equality  of  all  the  children  of  the 
Great  Spirit,  and  by  allowing  that  it  was  the 
knowledge  of  the  Englishman — an  accidental  supe- 
riority— that  forced  from  the  uninstructed  Indian  the 
exclamation, "  Manittoo  !  Manittoo  !"  he  is  a  God. 


128  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

*'  My  heart  is  wondrous  light 
Since  this  same  wayward  girl  is  so  reclaimed." 

Romeo  and  Juliet. 

The  next  morning  opened  on  Boston  with  that 
boon  to  all  small  societies,  a  new  topic  of  interest  and 
conversation.  The  attempt  on  the  prison  the  prece- 
ding night  was  in  every  one's  mouth;  and  as  the 
community  had  been  much  agitated  concerning  the 
heresies  and  trial  of  Gorton  and  his  company,  they 
did  not  hesitate  to  attribute  the  criminal  outrage  to 
some  of  his  secret  adherents,  who,  as  the  sentence 
that  had  passed  on  the  unfortunate  man  was  the 
next  day  to  take  effect,  had  made  this  desperate  ef- 
fort to  rescue  them.  It  was  not  even  surmised  by 
the  popular  voice  that  the  bold  attempt  had  been 
made  on  account  of  the  Indian  woman.  The  ma- 
gistrates had  very  discreetly  refrained  from  disclo- 
sing her  connexion  with  state  affairs,  as  every  alarm 
about  the  rising  of  the  Indians  threw  the  colony,  es- 
pecially the  women  and  children,  into  a  state  of  the 
greatest  agitation.  The  imprisonment  of  Magawisca 
was  therefore  looked  upon  as  a  transient,  prudential, 
and  domicihary  arrangement,  to  prevent  the  possi- 
bility of  any  concert  between  her  and  the  recovered 
captive.  Faith  Leslie,  who  was  known  to  be  pining 
for  her  Indian  friends. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  129 

That  the  governor's  secret  conclusions  were  very 
different  from  those  of  the  people,  was  indicated  by 
a  private  order  which  he  sent  to  Barnaby  Tuttle,  to 
remove  the  Indian  maiden  from  the  upper  apartment 
to  the  dungeon  beneath  the  prison,  but  by  no  means 
to  inflict  any  other  severity  on  her,  or  to  stint  her 
of  any  kindness  consistent  with  her  safe  keeping. 
Gorton's  company  were  on  the  same  day  removed 
from  the  prison,  and,  as  is  well  known  to  the  read- 
ers of  the  chronicles  of  the  times,  distributed  separ- 
ately to  the  towns  surrounding  Boston,  where,  not- 
withstanding they  were  jealously  guarded  and  watch- 
ed, they  proved  dangerous  leaven,  and  were  soon 
afterward  transported  to  England. 

Whatever  secret  suspicions  the  governor  enter- 
tained in  relation  to  Everell  Fletcher,  his  kind  feel- 
ings, and  the  dehcate  relation  in  which  he  stood  to 
that  young  man,  as  the  son  of  his  dearest  friend  and 
the  betrothed  husband  of  his  niece,  induced  him  to 
keep  them  within  his  own  bosom,  without  even  in- 
timating them  to  his  partners  in  authority,  who,  he 
well  knew,  whatever  infirmities  they,  frail  men, 
might  have  of  their  own,  were  seldom  guilty  of 
winking  at  those  of  others. 

But  to  return  to  our  heroine,  whom  we  left  con- 
valescing ;  the  energies  of  a  youthful  and  unimpair- 
ed constitution,  and  the  unwearied  care  of  her  gen- 
tle nurse,  restored  her,  in  the  space  of  two  days,  to 
such  a  degree  of  strength  that  she  was  able  to  join 
the  family  in  the  parlour  at  their  evening  meal,  to 
which  we  cannot  give  the  convenient  designation  of 


130  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  tea,"  as  Asia  had  not  yet  supplied  us  with  this  best 
of  all  her  aromatic  luxuries. 

Hope  entered  the  parlour  leaning  on  Esther's  arm. 
All  rose  to  welcome  her,  and  to  offer  their  congrat- 
idations,  more  or  less  formal,  on  her  preservation  and 
recovery.  Everell  advanced  with  the  rest,  and  es- 
sayed to  speak,  but  his  voice  failed  him.  Hope, 
with  natural  frankness,  gave  him  her  hand,  and  all 
the  blood  in  her  heart  seemed  to  gush  into  her 
pale  cheeks,  but  neither  did  she  speak.  In  the 
general  movement,  their  reciprocal  emotion  passed 
unobserved  excepting  by  Esther ;  she  noted  it. 
After  the  meal  w^as  finished,  and  the  governor  had 
returned  thanks,  in  which  he  inserted  a  clause  ex- 
pressive of  the  general  gratitude  "  for  the  mercies 
that  had  been  vouchsafed  to  the  maiden  near  and 
dear  to  many  present,  in  that  she  had  been  led  safe- 
ly through  perils  by  water,  by  land,  and  by  sickness^" 
Madam  Winthrop  kindly  insisted  that  Hope  should 
occupy  her  easy  chair ;  but  Hope  declined  the  hon- 
our, and,  seating  herself  on  the  window-seat,  mo- 
tioned to  her  sister  to  come  and  sit  by  her.  The 
poor  girl  obeyed,  but  without  any  apparent  interest, 
and  without  even  seeming  conscious  of  the  endear- 
ing tenderness  with  which  Hope  stroked  back  her 
hair  and  kissed  her  cheek.  "What  shall  we  do 
with  this  poor  home-sick  child  ?"  she  asked,  appeal- 
ing to  her  guardian. 

"In  truth,  I  know^  not,"  he  replied.  "All  day 
and  all  night,  they  tell  me,  she  goes  from  window  to 
window,  like  an  imprisoned  bird  fluttering  against 


HOPE    LESLIE.  131 

the  bars  of  its  cage;  and  so  wistfully  she  looks 
abroad,  as  if  her  heart  went  forth  with  the  glance 
of  her  eye." 

"I  have  done  my  best,"  said  Mrs.  Grafton,  now 
joining  in  the  conversation,  "  to  please  her,  but  it's 
all  working  for  nothing,  and  no  thanks.  In  the  first 
place,  I  gave  her  all  her  old  playthings  that  you 
saved  so  carefully,  Hope,  and  shed  so  many  tears 
over,  and  at  first  they  did  seem  to  pleasure  her. 
She  looked  them  over  and  over,  and  I  could  see  by 
the  changes  of  her  countenance,  as  she  took  up  one 
and  another,  that  some  glimmering  of  past  times 
came  over  her ;  but,  as  ill  luck  would  have  it,  there 
was  among  the  rest,  in  a  little  basket,  a  string  of 
bird's  eggs,  which  Oneco  had  given  her  at  Bethel. 
I  remembered  it  well,  and  so  did  she ;  for,  as  soon 
as  she  saw  it,  she  dropped  everything  else,  and 
burst  into  tears." 

"  Poor  child !"  said  Mr.  Fletcher ;  "  these  early  af- 
fections are  deeply  rooted."  Everell,  who  stood  by 
his  father,  turned  and  walked  to  the  other  extremity 
of  the  apartment,  and  Hope  involuntarily  passed  her 
hand  hastily  over  her  brow  ;  as  she  did  so,  she  look- 
ed up  and  saw  Esther's  eye  fixed  on  her.  Rallying 
her  spirits, "  I  am  weak  yet,  Esther,"  she  said, "  and 
this  sudden  change  from  our  still  room  confuses  me." 
Mrs.  Grafton  did  not  mark  this  little  interlude,  and, 
replying  to  Mr.  Fletcher's  last  observation,  "  Poor 
child  !  do  you  call  her  ?  I  call  it  sheer  foolishness. 
Her  early  affections,  indeed  !  you  seem  to  forget  she 
had  other  and  earlier  than  for  that  Indian  boy ;  but 


132  HOPE    LESLIE. 

this  seems  to  be  the  one  weed  that  has  choked  all 
the  rest.  Hope,  my  dear,  you  have  no  idea  what  a 
non  compos  mentis  she  has  got  to  be.  I  showed  her 
all  my  earrings,  and  gave  her  her  choice  of  all  but 
the  diamonds  that  are  promised  for  your  wedding 
gift,  dearie,  you  know,  and,  do  you  think,  she  scarce- 
ly looked  at  them  ?  while  she  won't  let  me  touch 
those  horrid  blue  glass  things  she  wears,  that  look 
so  like  the  tawnies,  it  makes  me  all  of  a  nerve  to  see 
them.  And  then,  just  look  for  yourself:  though  I 
have  dressed  her  up  in  that  beautiful  Lyons  silk  of 
yours,  with  the  Dresden  tucker,  she  will — this  warm 
weather,  too — keep  on  her  Indian  mantle  in  that 
blankety  fashion." 

"  Well,  my  dear  aunt,  why  not  indulge  her  for 
the  present  ?  I  suppose  she  has  the  feeling  of  the 
natives,  who  seem  to  have  an  almost  superstitious 
attachment  to  that  Oriental  costume." 

"  Oriental  fiddlestick !  you  talk  like  a  simpleton, 
Hope.  I  suppose  you  would  let  her  wear  that  string 
of  all-coloured  shells  round  her  neck,  would  you 
not,"  she  asked,  drawing  aside  Faith's  mantle,  and. 
showing  the  savage  ornament, "  instead  of  that  beau- 
tiful rainbow  necklace  of  mine,  which  I  have  offered 
to  her  in  place  of  it  1" 

"  If  you  ask  me  seriously,  aunt,  I  certainly  would, 
if  she  prefers  it." 

"  Now  that  is  pecuhar  of  you,  Hope.  Why,  Miss 
Esther  Downing,  mine  is  a  string  of  stones  that  go 
by  sevens :  yellow,  topaz — orange,  onyx — red,  ruby 
— and  so  on,  and  so  on.     Master  Cradock  wrote  the 


HOPE    LESLIE.  133 

definitions  of  them  all  out  of  a  Latin  book  for  me 
once ;  and  yet,  though  it  is  such  a  peculiar  beauty, 
that  silly  child  will  not  give  up  those  horrid  shells 
for  it.  Now,"  she  continued,  turning  to  Faith,  and 
putting  her  hand  on  the  necklace,  "  now,  that's  a 
good  girl,  let  me  take  it  off." 

Faith  understood  her  action,  though  not  her 
words,  and  she  laid  her  own  hand  on  the  necklace, 
and  looked  as  if  obstinately  determined  it  should  not 
be  removed. 

Hope  perceived  there  was  something  attached  to 
the  necklace,  and  on  a  closer  inspection,  which  her  po- 
sition enabled  her  to  make,  she  saw  it  was  a  cruci- 
fix ;  and  dreading  lest  her  sister  should  be  exposed 
to  a  new  source  of  persecution,  she  interposed  :  "  Let 
her  have  her  own  way  at  present,  I  pray  you,  aunt ; 
she  may  have  some  reason  for  preferring  those  shells 
that  we  do  not  know ;  and  if  she  has  not,  I  see  no 
great  harm  in  her  preferring  bright  shells  to  bright 
stones  ;  at  any  rate,  for  the  present,  we  had  best 
leave  her  to  herself,  and  say  nothing  at  all  to  her 
about  her  dress  or  ornaments." 

"  Well — very  well  j  take  your  own  w^ay,  Miss 
Hope  Leslie." 

Hope  smiled  :  "  Nay,  aunt,"  she  said,  "  I  cannot 
be  Miss  Hope  Leslie  till  I  get  quite  well  again." 

"  Oh,  dearie,  I  meant  nothing,  you  know,"  said 
the  good  lady,  whose  displeasure  never  held  out 
against  one  of  her  niece's  smiles.  "  If  Miss  Esther 
Downing,"  she  added,  lowering  her  voice,  "  had  told 
me  to  say  nothing  of  dress  and  ornaments,  I  should 

Vor.  TL~M 


134  HOPE    LESLIE. 

not  have  been  surprised  j  but  it  is  an  unheard-of 
sirapleness  for  you,  Hope.  Dress  and  ornaments ! 
they  are  the  most  hkely  things  in  the  world  to  take 
the  mind  off  from  trouble.  Till  I  came  to  this  new 
English  colony,  where  everything  seems,  as  it  were, 
topsy-turvy,  I  never  saw  that  woman  whose  mind 
could  not  be  diverted  by  dress  and  ornaments." 

"  You  strangely  dishonour  your  memory.  Mistress 
Grafton,  or  Hope's  noble  mother,"  said  the  elder 
Fletcher  ;  "  methinks  I  have  often  heard  you  say 
that  Alice  Fletcher  had  no  taste  for  these  vanities." 

"  No,  you  never  heard  me  say  that,  Mr.  Fletcher. 
Vanities !  no,  never,  the  longest  day  I  had  to  live ; 
for  I  never  called  them  vanities^ — no ;  I  did  say  Alice 
always  went  as  plain  as  a  pike-staff  after  you  left 
England  ;  and  a  great  pity  it  was,  I  always  thought ; 
for,  when  Queen  Henrietta  came  from  France,  we 
had  such  a  world  of  beautiful  new  fashions,  it  would 
have  cured  Alice  of  moping  if  she  would  have  given 
her  mind  to  it.  There  was  my  Lady  Penyvere, 
how  different  it  was  with  her  after  her  losses :  let's 
see— her  husband,  and  her  son  Edward,  heir  to  the 
estate,  and  her  daughter-in-law — that  was  not  so 
much,  but  we'll  count  her — and  Ulrica,  her  own 
daughter,  all  died  in  one  week ;  and,  for  an  aggra- 
vation, her  coachman,  horses,  coach,  and  all,  went 
off  London  Bridge,  and  all  w^ere  drowned — killed — 
smashed  to  death  ;  and  yet,  in  less  than  a  week,  my 
lady  gave  orders  for  every  suit  of  mourning;  and 
that  is  the  great  use  of  wearing  mourning,  as  she 
said  :  it  takes  the  mind  off  from  trouble." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  135 

Hope  felt,  and  her  quick  eye  saw,  that  her  aunt 
was  running  on  sadly  at  her  own  expense  ;  and,  to 
produce  an  effect  similar  to  the  painter,  when,  by  his 
happy  art,  he  shifts  his  lights,  throwing  defects  into 
shadow,  and  bringing  out  beauties,  she  said,  "  You 
are  very  little  like  your  friend  Lady  Penyvere,  dear 
aunt ;  for  I  am  certain,  if,  as  you  feared,  I  had  lost 
my  life  the  other  day,  all  the  mourning  in  the  king's 
realm  would  not  have  turned  your  thoughts  from 
trouble." 

"  No,  that's  true — that's  very  true,  dearie,"  repli- 
ed the  good  lady,  snuffling,  and  wiping  away  the 
tears  that  had  gathered  at  the  bare  thought  of  the 
evil  that  had  threatened  her.  "  No,  Hope ;  touch 
you,  touch  my  life;  but  then,"  she  added,  lowering 
her  voice  for  Hope's  ear  only,  "  I  can't  bear  to  have 
you  give  in  to  this  outcry  against  dress ;  we  have 
preaching  and  prophesying  enough,  the  Lord  knows, 
without  your  taking  it  up." 

Lights  were  now  ordered,  and,  after  the  bustle 
made  by  the  ladies  drawing  around  the  table  and 
arranging  their  work  was  over.  Governor  Winthrop 
said,  "  If  your  strength  is  equal  to  the  task,  Miss 
Leslie,  we  would  gladly  hear  the  particulars  of  your 
marvellous  escape,  of  which  Esther  has  been  able  to 
give  us  but  a  slight  sketch — though  enough  to  make 
us  all  admire  at  the  wonderful  Providence  that 
brought  you  safely  through." 

The  elder  Fletcher,  really  apprehensive  for  Hope's 
health,  and  still  more  apprehensive  that  she  might, 
in  her  fearless  frankness,  discredit  herself  with  the 


136  HOPE    LESLIE. 

governor  by  disclosing  all  the  particulars  of  her  late 
experience,  which  he  had  already  heard  from  her 
lips,  and  permitted  to  pass  uncensured,  interposed, 
and  hoped  to  avert  the  evil  by  begging  that  the  re- 
lation might  be  deferred.  But  Hope  insisted  that  she 
felt  perfectly  well,  and  began  by  saying,  "  She  doubt- 
ed not  her  kind  friends  had  made  every  allowance 
for  the  trouble  she  had  occasioned  them.  She  was 
conscious  that  much  evil  had  proceeded  from  the  rash 
promise  of  secrecy  she  had  given."  She  forbore  to 
name  Magawisca  on  her  sister's  account,  who  was 
still  sitting  by  her;  the  governor,  by  a  significant 
nod,  expressed  that  he  comprehended  her  ;  and  she 
went  on  to  say  "  That  she  trusted  she  had  been  for- 
given for  that,  and  for  all  the  petulant  and  childish 
conduct  of  the  week  that  followed  it.  I  scarcely 
recollect  anything  of  those  days,  that  then  seemed  to 
me  interminable,"  she  said,"  but  that  I  tried  to  mask 
my  troubled  spirit  with  a  laughing  face,  and,  in  spite 
of  all  my  efforts,  I  was  rather  cross  than  gay.  I  be- 
lieve. Madam  Winthrop,  I  called  forth  your  censure, 
and  I  pray  you  to  forgive  me  for  not  taking  it  pa- 
tiently and  thankfully,  as  I  ought." 

Madam  Winthrop,  all  astonishment  at  Hope's  ex- 
emplary humility  and  deference — graces  she  had  not 
appeared  to  abound  in — assured  her,  with  un assumed 
kindness,  that  she  had  her  cordial  forgiveness  ; 
though,  indeed,  she  was  pleased  to  say,  "  Hope's  ex- 
planation left  her  little  to  forgive." 

"  And  you,  sir,"  said  Hope,  turning  to  the  govern- 
or, "  you,  I  trust,  will  pardon  me  for  selecting  your 
garden  for  a  secret  rendezvous." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  137 

"Indeed,  Hope  Leslie,  I  could  pardon  a  much 
heavier  transgression  in  one  so  young  as  thee,  and 
one  who  seems  to  have  so  hopeful  a  sense  of  error," 
replied  the  governor ;  while  the  good- will  beaming 
in  his  benevolent  face  showed  how  much  more  ac- 
cordant kindness  was  with  his  nature  than  the  aus- 
tere reproof  which  he  so  often  believed  the  letter  of 
his  duty  required  from  him. 

"  Then  you  all — all  forgive  me,  do  you  not  V 
Hope  asked  ;  and,  glancing  her  eye  around  the  room, 
it  involuntarily  rested  for  a  moment  on  Everell.  All 
but  Everell,  who  did  not  speak,  were  warm  in  their 
assurances  that  they  had  nothing  to  forgive ;  and  the 
elder  Fletcher  tenderly  pressed  her  hand,  secretly 
rejoicing  that  her  graceful  humihty  enabled  her  to 
start  wath  her  story  from  vantage  ground. 

"  I  did  not  see  you,  I  believe,  Esther,'^  continued 
Hope,  "  after  we  parted  at  Digby's  cottage  ?" 

"  Speak  a  trifle  louder,  if  you  please.  Miss  Leslie," 
said  the  governor.  Hope  was  herself  conscious  that 
her  voice  had  faltered  at  the  recollection  of  the  de- 
finitive scene  in  Digby's  cottage,  and,  making  a  new 
effort,  she  said,  in  a  firmer  and  more  cheerful  tone, 
"  You,  Esther,  were  happily  occupied.  I  was  per- 
secuted by  Sir  Philip  Gardiner,  whose  un gentleman- 
ly interference  in  my  concerns  will,  I  trust,  relieve 
me  from  his  society  in  future." 

"  Pardon  me.  Miss  Leslie,"  said  the  governor,  in- 
terrupting Hope ;  "  our  friend  Sir  Philip  hath  deserv- 
ed your  thanks  rather  than  your  censure.     There 
are,  as  you  well  know,  duties  paramount  to  the 
M  2 


138  HOPE    LESLIE. 

courtesies  of  a  gentleman,  which  are,  for  the  most 
part,  but  a  vain  show — mere  dress  and  decoration ;" 
and  he  vouchsafed  a  smile  as  he  quoted  the  words 
of  Mrs.  Grafton  :  "  Sir  Philip  believed  he  was  con- 
sulting your  happiness  when  he  took  measures  to  re- 
cover your  sister,  which  your  promise  forbade  your 
taking." 

"  Sir  Philip  strangely  mistakes  me,"  replied  Hope, 
"  if  he  thinks  anything  could  console  me  for  appa- 
rently betraying  one  who  trusted  me  to  sorrowful, 
fearful  imprisonment." 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  Mrs.  Winthrop 
whispered  to  Esther, "Then  she  knows  all  about  itl" 

"  Yes ;  she  would  not  rest  till  she  heard  all." 

Hope  proceeded.  "  I  believe  I  am  not  yet  strong 
enough  to  speak  on  this  point."  She  then  went  on 
to  narrate  circumstantially  all  that  took  place  after 
she  was  parted  from  Magawisca  till  she  came  to  An- 
tonio. Cradock,  when  she  began,  had  laid  aside  a 
little  Greek  book  over  which  he  was  conning,  and 
had,  at  every  new  period  of  her  relation,  given  his 
chair  a  hitch  towards  her,  till  he  sat  directly  before 
her,  on  the  edge  of  his  chair,  his  knees  pressed  close 
together,  and  his  palms  resting  upright  on  them,  his 
head  stooped  forward  so  as  to  be  at  right  angles 
with  his  body,  and  his  parting  lips  creeping  round 
to  his  ears  wuth  an  expression  of  complacent  won- 
der. Thus  he  sat  and  looked  while  Hope  described 
her  polite  acquiescence  in  Antonio's  error,  and  re- 
peated her  first  reply  to  him  in  Italian.  At  this  the 
old  man  threw  his  head  back,  and  burst  into  a  peal 


HOPE    LESLIE.  139 

of  laughter  that  resembled  the  neighing  of  a  horse 
more  than  any  human  sound;  and,  as  soon  as  he 
could  recover  his  voice,  "  Did  I  not  teach  her  the 
tongues  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  vehement  gesture  to  the 
company  ;  "  did  1  not  teach  her  the  tongues  1" 

"  Indeed  you  did,  kind  Master  Cradock,"  said 
Hope,  laying  her  hand  on  his,  "  and  many  a  weary 
hour  it  cost  you." 

"  Never — never  one ;  thou  wert  always  a  marvel- 
lous quick-witted  damsel."  He  then  resumed  his 
seat  and  his  former  attitude,  and,  closing  his  eyes, 
said,  in  his  usual  low,  deliberate  tone,  "  I  bless  the 
Lord  that  the  flower  and  beauty  of  my  youth  were 
spent  in  Padua,  a  poor  blind  worm  that  I  am:  I 
deemed  it  a  loss,  but  it  hath  saved  her  most  precious 
and  sweet  life."  And  here  he  burst  into  a  paroxysm 
of  tears  and  sobbing  almost  as  violent  as  his  laugh- 
ter had  been :  his  organs  seemed  moved  by  springs, 
which,  if  touched  by  an  emotion,  were  quite  beyond 
his  control,  and  only  ceased  their  operation  when 
their  mechanical  force  was  exhausted. 

Hope  had  little  more  to  relate:  she  prudently 
suppressed  the  private  concerns  of  Sir  Philip's  page, 
and  attributed  their  accidental  meeting  to  his  having 
come  abroad,  as  in  truth  he  had,  in  quest  of  his  mas- 
ter. When  she  had  finished,  the  governor  said, 
"Thou  hast  indeed  been  brought  through  many 
dangers,  Hope  Leslie  -,  delivered  from  the  hand  of 
thy  strong  enemy,  and  thy  feet  made  like  hinds' 
feet ;  and  I  joy  to  say  that  thy  experience  of  the 
Lord's  mercies  seemeth  to  have  wrought  a  becoming 


140  HOPE    LESLIE. 

sobriety  in  thee.  I  would  fain  pass  over  that  last 
passage  in  thy  evening's  adventures  without  remark, 
but  duty  bids  me  say  thou  didst  err  lamentably  in 
permitting,  for  a  moment,  the  idol-worship  of  that 
darkened,  papistical  youth." 

"  Worship,  sir !"  said  Hope ;  "  I  did  not  esteem 
it  worship ;  I  thought  it  merely  an  affectionate  ad- 
dress to  one  who — and  I  hope  I  erred  not  in  that — 
might  not  have  been  a  great  deal  better  than  my- 
self." 

"  I  think  she  erred  not  greatly,"  said  Mr.  Fletch- 
er, who  at  this  moment  felt  too  tenderly  for  Hope  pa- 
tiently to  hear  her  rebuked  j  "  the  best  Catholic  doc- 
tors put  this  interpretation  on  the  invocations  to 
saints." 

"  Granted,"  replied  the  governor  ;  "  but  did  she 
right  to  deepen  and  strengthen  the  superstition  of 
the  Romish  sailor  ?" 

"It  does  not  appear  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Fletcher, 
"  that  it  was  a  seasonable  moment  for  meddlino-  with 

o 

his  superstitions.  We  do  not  read  that  Paul  re- 
buked the  Melitans,  even  when  they  said  he  was  a 
god."  This  was  but  negative  authority ;  but,  while 
the  governorhesitated  how  he  should  answer  it,  Mr. 
Fletcher  turned  to  Esther :  "  Miss  Downing,"  he 
said,  "  thou  art  the  pattern  maiden  of  the  Common- 
wealth :  in  Hope's  condition,  wouldst  thou  have  acted 
differently  ?  Out  of  thy  mouth  she  shall  be  justified 
or  condemned." 

"  Speak,  dear  Esther,"  said  Hope ;  "  why  do  you 
hesitate  ?    If  I  were  to  choose  an  external  conscience, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  141 

you  should  be  my  rule;  though  I  think  the  stern 
monitor  could  never  be  imbodied  in  so  gentle  a 
form.  Now  tell  us,  Esther,  what  would  you  have 
done  V 

"  What  I  should  have  done,  if  left  to  my  own 
strength,  I  know  not,"  replied  Esther,  speaking  re- 
luctantly. 

"  Then,  Esther,  I  will  put  the  question  in  a  form 
to  spare  your  humility  :  I  will  not  ask  what  you 
would  have  done,  but  what  I  ought  to  have  done." 

Esther's  strictness  was  a  submission  to  duty ;  and 
it  cost  her  an  effort  to  say,  "  I  would  rather,  Hope, 
thou  hadst  trusted  thyself  wholly  to  that  Providence 
that  had  so  wonderfully  wrought  for  thee  thus  far." 

"I  believe  you  are  quite  right,  Esther,"  said 
Hope,  who  was  disposed  to  acquiesce  in  whatever 
her  friend  said,  and  glad  to  escape  from  any  farther 
discussion,  and,  moreover,  anxious  to  avert  Esther's 
observation  from  Everell,  who,  during  the  conver- 
sation, had  been  walking  the  room,  his  arms  folded, 
to  and  fro,  but  had  narrowly  watched  Esther  du- 
ring this  appeal,  and,  when  she  announced  her  opin- 
ion, had  turned  disappointed  away. 

Mrs.  Grafton  now  arose  with  a  trifling  apparent 
vexation,  and,  taking  Faith  by  the  arm,  she  signified 
her  intention  to  retire  to  her  own  apartment.  While 
crossing  the  room,  she  said,  "  It  is  not  often  I  quote 
Scripture,  as  you  all  know ;  because,  as  I  have  said 
before,  I  hold  a  text  from  Scripture  or  a  sample  of 
chints  to  be  a  deceptive  kind  of  specimen ;  but  I 
must  say  now,  that  I  think  the  case  of  David,  in  eat- 


142  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ing  the  shew-bread  instead  of  looking  for  manna, 
upholds  Hope  Leslie  in  using  the  means  the  Lord 
chose  to  place  in  her  hands." 

Having  the  last  word  is  one  of  the  tokens  of  vic- 
tory, and  the  good  lady,  content  with  this,  withdrew 
from  the  field  of  discussion.  Governor  Winthrop  re- 
tired to  his  study.  Hope  followed  him  thither,  and 
begged  a  fev/  moments'  audience,  which  was,  of 
course,  readily  granted.  When  the  door  was  closed, 
and  he  had  seated  himself,  and  placed  a  large  arm- 
chair for  her,  all  the  tranquillity  which  she  had  just 
before  so  well  sustained  forsook  her;  she  sunk, 
trembling,  on  her  knees,  and  was  compelled  to  rest 
her  forehead  on  the  governor's  knee :  he  laid  his 
hand  kindly  on  her  head  :  "  What  does  this  mean  ?" 
he  asked ;  "  I  like  it  not,  and  it  is  not  fitting  that 
any  one  should  kneel  in  my  house  but  for  a  holy 
purpose :  rise,  Hope  Leslie,  and  explain  yourself; 
rise,  my  child,"  he  added,  in  a  softened  tone,  for  his 
heart  was  touched  with  her  distress ;  "  tyrants  are 
knelt  to,  and  I  trust  I  am  none." 

"No,  indeed  you  are  not,"  she  replied, rising  and 
clasping  her  hands  in  earnest  supplication ;  "  and 
therefore  I  hope — nay,  I  believe — you  will  grant  my 
petition  for  our  poor  Indian  friend." 

"  Well,  be  calm ;  what  of  her  ?" 

"  What  of  her  !  Is  she  not,  the  generous  crea- 
ture, at  this  moment  in  your  condemned  dungeon  ? 
Is  she  not  to  be  tried  to-morrow,  perhaps  sentenced 
to  death  ?  and  can  I,  the  cause  of  bringing  her  into 
this  trouble,  can  I  look  calmly  on  1" 


HOPE    LESLIE.  143 

"  Well,  what  would  you  have,  young  lady  ?" 
asked  the  governor,  in  a  quiet  manner,  that  damped 
our  heroine's  hopes,  though  it  did  not  abate  her  ar- 
dour. 

"  I  would  have  your  warrant,  sir,"  she  replied, 
boldly,  *'for  her  release;  her  free  passage  to  her 
poor  old  father,  if  indeed  he  lives." 

"  You  speak  unadvisedly.  Miss  Leslie.  I  am  no 
king ;  and  I  trust  the  Lord  wall  never  send  one  in 
wrath  on  his  chosen  people  of  the  New  World,  as  he 
did  on  those  of  old.  No,  in  truth,  I  am  no  king. 
I  have  but  one  voice  in  the  Commonwealth,  and  I 
cannot  grant  pardons  at  pleasure  j  and,  besides,  on 
what  do  you  found  your  plea  ?" 

"  On  what !"  exclaimed  Hope.  "  On  her  merits 
and  rights." 

"  Methinks,  my  young  friend,  you  have  lost  right 
suddenly  that  humble  tone  that  but  now,  in  the  par- 
lour, graced  you  so  well.  I  trusted  that  your  light 
afflictions  and  short  sickness  had  tended  to  the  edi- 
fication of  your  spirit." 

"  I  spoke  then  of  myself,  and  humility  became  me ; 
but  surely  you  will  permit  me  to  speak  courageously 
of  the  noble  Magawisca." 

"  There  is  some  touch  of  reason  in  thy  speech, 
Hope  Leslie,"  replied  the  governor,  his  hps  almost 
relaxing  to  a  smile.  "  Sit  down,  child,  and  tell  me 
of  these  merits  and  rights,  for  I  would  be  possessed 
of  everything  in  favour  of  this  unhappy  maiden." 

"  I  have  not  to  tell  you,  sir,"  said  Hope,  strug- 
gling to  speak  in  a  dispassionate  tone,  "  but  only  to 


144  HOPE    LESLIE. 

remind  you  of  what  you  were  once  the  first  to  speak 
of — the  many  obhgations  of  the  Enghsh  to  the  fam- 
ily of  Mononotto  :  a  debt  that  has  been  but  ill  paid." 

"  That  debt,  I  think,  was  cancelled  by  the  dread- 
ful massacre  at  Bethel." 

"  If  it  be  so,  there  is  another  debt  that  never  has 
been,  that  scarce  can  be  cancelled." 

"  Yes,  I  know  to  what  you  allude  :  it  was  a  noble 
action  for  a  heathen  savage ;  and  I  marvel  not  that 
my  friend  Fletcher  should  think  it  a  title  to  our  mer- 
cy, or  that  young  Mr.  Everell,  looking  w4th  a  youth- 
ful eye  on  this  business,  should  deem  it  a  claim  on 
our  justice.  They  have  both  spoken  much  and  often 
to  me,  and  it  w^ere  well  if  Everell  Fletcher  were  con- 
tent to  leave  this  matter  with  those  who  have  the 
right  to  determine  it."  Hope  perceived  the  govern- 
or looked  very  significantly,  and  she  apprehended 
that  he  might  think  her  intercession  was  instigated 
by  Everell. 

"  I  have  not  seen  Everell  Fletcher,"  she  said, "  till 
this  evening,  since  we  parted  at  the  garden ;  and  you 
will  do  both  him  and  me  the  justice  to  believe  I  have 
not  now^  spoken  at  his  bidding." 

"  I  did  not  think  it.  I  know  thou  art  ever  some- 
what forward  to  speak  the  dictates  of  thy  heart,"  he 
continued,  with  a  smile ;  "  but  now  let  me  caution 
you  both,  especially  Everell,  not  to  stir  in  this  mat- 
ter ;  any  private  interference  w^ill  but  prejudice  the 
Pequod's  cause.  They  have  ever  been  a  hateful 
race  to  the  English ;  and  as  the  old  chief  and  his 
daughter  are  accused,  and  I  fear  justly,  of  kindling 


HOPE    LESLIE.  145 

the  enmity  of  the  tribes  against  us,  and  attempting 
to  stir  up  a  war  that  would  lay  our  villages  in  ruins, 
it  will  be  difficult  to  make  a  private  benefit  out- 
weigh such  a  public  crime.  At  any  rate,  the  pris- 
oner must  be  tried  for  her  life;  afterward  we  may 
consider  if  it  be  possible  and  suitable  to  grant  her  a 
pardon."  Hope  rose  to  withdraw :  the  sanguine 
hopes  that  had  sustained  her  w^ere  abated ;  her  hmbs 
trembled,  and  her  lips  quivered  as  she  turned  to  say 
"  good-night."  The  governor  took  her  hand,  and 
said  compassionately,  "  Be  not  thus  disquieted,  my 
child  ;  cast  thy  care  upon  the  Lord.  He  can  bring 
light  out  of  this  darkness." 

"  And  He  alone,"  she  thought,  as  she  slowly  crept 
to  her  room.  A  favourite  from  her  birth,  Hope  had 
been  accustomed  to  the  gratification  of  her  w^ishes ; 
innocent  and  moderate  they  had  been ;  but  uniform 
indulgence  is  not  a  favourable  school,  and  our  hero- 
ine had  now  to  learn,  from  that  stern  teacher,  ex- 
perience, that  events  and  circumstances  cannot  be 
moulded  to  individual  wishes.  She  must  sit  down 
and  passively  await  the  fate  of  Magawisca.  "  She 
had  done  all  she  could  do,  and  without  any  effect : 
had  she  done  all  ?"  While  she  still  meditated  on 
this  last  clause  of  her  thoughts,  Esther  entered  the 
room.  Absorbed  in  her  own  revery,  Hope  did  not, 
at  first,  particularly  notice  her  friend,  and  when  she 
did,  she  saw  that  she  appeared  much  disturbed. 
Esther,  after  opening  and  shutting  drawers  and  cup- 
boards, and  seeking  by  these  little  devices  to  con- 
ceal or  subdue  her  agitation,  found  all  unavailing, 

Vol.  II.— N 


146  HOPE    LESLIE. 

and,  throwing  herself  in  a  chair,  she  gave  way  io 
hysterical  sobbings. 

This,  in  almost  any  young  lady,  would  have  been 
a  common  expression  of  romantic  distress ;  but  in 
the  disciplined,  circumspect  Esther,  uncontrolled, 
emotion  was  as  alarming,  to  compare  small  things 
to  great,  as  if  a  planet  were  to  start  from  its  orbit. 

Hope  hastened  to  her,  and,  folding  her  arms  around 
her  tenderly,  inquired  what  could  thus  distress  her. 
Esther  disengaged  herself  from  her  friend,  and  turn- 
ed her  face  from  her. 

"  I  cannot  bear  this,"  said  Hope ;  "  I  can  bear 
anything  better  than  this :  are  you  displeased  with 
me,  Esther  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  displeased  with  you — with  myself — 
with  everybody  :  I  am  miserable." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Esther  ?  I  have  done  no- 
thing to  offend,  you  ;  for  pity's  sake  tell  me  what  you 
mean  ?  I  have  never  had  a  feeling  or  thought  that 
should  offend  you." 

"  You  have  most  cruelly,  fatally  injured  me,  Hope 
Leslie." 

"  Here  is  some  wretched  mistake,"  cried  Hope ; 
"  for  Heaven's  sake  explain,  Esther :  if  I  had  injured 
you  knowingly,  I.  should  be  of  all  creatures  most 
guilty ;  but  I  have  not.  If  I  have  innocently  injured 
you,  speak,  my  dear  friend,  I  beseech  you,"  she  add- 
ed, again  putting  her  arm  around  Esther ;  "  have  not 
you  yourself,  a  thousand  times,  said  there  should  be 
no  disguises  with  friends — no  untold  suspicions — no 
unexplained  mysteries  1" 


HOPE    LESLIE.  147 

Again  Esther  repressed  Hope.  "  I  have  been  un- 
fairly dealt  by,"  she  said.  "  I  have  been  treated  as 
a  child." 

"How — when — w^here — by  whom?"  demanded 
Hope,  impetuously. 

"  Ask  me  no  questions  now,  Hope.  I  will  answer 
none.     I  will  no  longer  be  played  upon." 

"  Oh,  Esther,  you  are  cruel,"  said  Hope,  bui^ting 
into  teai^.  "  You  are  the  one  friend  that  I  have  lov- 
ed gratefully,  devotedly,  disinterestedly,  and  I  can- 
not bear  this." 

There  was  a  pause  of  half  an  hour,  during  which 
Esther  sat  with  her  face  covered  with  her  handker- 
chief, and  sobbing  violently,  while  Hope  walked  up 
and  down  the  room,  her  tender  heart  penetrated  to 
the  very  core  with  sorrow,  and  her  mind  perplexed 
with  endless  conjectures  about  the  cause  of  her  friend's 
emotions. 

She  sometimes  approached  near  the  truth,  but  that 
way  she  could  not  bear  to  look.  At  last  Esther  be- 
came quiet,  and  Hope  ventured  once  more  to  ap- 
proach her,  and  leaned  over  her  without  speaking. 
Esther  rose  from  her  chair,  knelt  down,  and  drew 
Hope  down  beside  her,  and  in  a  low,  but  perfectly 
firm  voice,  supplicated  for  grace  to  resist  engrossing 
passion  and  selfish  affections.  She  prayed  they  might 
both  be  assisted  from  above,  so  that  their  mutual  for- 
giveness and  mutual  love  might  be  perfected,  and  is- 
sue in  a  friendship  which  should  be  a  foretaste  of 
Heaven.  She  then  rose  and  folded  her  arms  around 
hfir  friend,  saying,  "  I  have  given  way  to  my  sinful 


148  HOPE    LESLIE. 

nature,  but  I  feel  already  an  earnest  of  returning 
peace.  Do  not  say  anything  to  me  now,  Hope ;  the 
future  will  explain  all." 

There  was  an  authority  in  her  manner  that  Hope 
could  not,  and  did  not  wish  to  resist.  "  If  you  speak 
to  me  so,  Esther,"  she  said, "  I  would  obey  you,  even 
though  it  were  possible  obedience  should  be  more 
difficult.  Now  we  will  go  to  bed,  and  forget  all  this 
w^earisome  evening ;  but  first  kiss  me,  and  tell  me 
you  love  me  as  well  as  ever." 

"  I  do,"  she  replied ;  but  her  voice  faltered  ;  and, 
governed  by  the  strictest  law  of  truth,  she  changed 
her  form  of  expression  :  "  I  mean  that  I  shall  again 
love  you  as  w^ell — I  trust,  better  than  ever ;  be  con- 
tent with  this  for  the  present,  Hope,  and  try  me  no 
farther." 

Once,  while  they  were  undressing,  Esther  said, 
but  without  any  emotion  in  her  voice — her  face  was 
averted  from  Hope — "  Everell  has  been  proposing  to 
me  to  assist  him  in  a  clandestine  attempt  to  get  Mag- 
awisca  out  of  prison." 

"  To  get  her  out !"  exclaimed  Hope,  with  the 
greatest  animation  :  "  to-night  ?" 

"  To-night  or  to-morrow  night." 

"  And  is  there  any  hope  of  effecting  it  ?" 

"  I  thought  it  not  right  for  me  to  undertake  it," 
Esther  replied,  in  the  same  tone,  quite  calm,  but  so 
deliberate  that  Hope  detected  the  effort  with  which 
she  spoke,  and  dared  not  venture  another  question. 

They  both  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep ;  mutual 
and  secret  anxieties  kept  them  for  a  long  time  rest- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  149 

less,  and  a  strange  feeling  of  embarrassment,  as  dis- 
tant as  the  width  of  their  bed  would  allow  ;  but,  final- 
ly, Hope,  as  if  she  could  no  longer  bear  this  estrange- 
ment, nestled  close  to  Esther,  folded  her  arms  around 
her,  and  fell  asleep  on  her  bosom. 

Madam  Winthrop  had  very  considerately,  in  the 
course  of  the  evening,  left  Everell  and  her  niece  alone 
together  ;  and  he  had  availed  himself  of  this  first  op- 
portunity of  private  communication  to  inform  her 
that,  after  being  frustrated  in  all  his  efforts  for  Mag- 
awisca's  rescue,  he  had  at  length  devised  a  plan 
which  only  w^anted  her  co-operation  to  ensure  it  suc- 
cess. Her  agency  would  certainly,  he  believed,  not 
be  detected  ;  and,  at  any  rate,  could  not  involve  her 
in  any  disagreeable  consequences. 

"  Any  consequences  to  herself,"  Esther  said, "  she 
would  not  fear."  Everell  assured  her  that  he  was 
certain  she  would  not ;  but  he  was  anxious  she 
should  see  he  would  not  expose  her  to  any,  even  to 
attain  an  object  for  which  he  would  risk  or  sacrifice 
his  own  life.  He  then  went  on  eagerly  to  detail  his 
plan  of  operations,  till  Esther  summoned  courage 
to  interrupt  him.  Perhaps  there  is  not  on  earth  a 
more  difficult  duty  than  for  a  woman  to  place  herself 
in  a  disagreeable  light  before  the  man  she  truly  loves. 
Esther's  affections  were  deep,  fixed,  and  unpretend- 
ing, capable  of  any  effort  or  any  sacrifice  that  was 
not  proscribed  by  religious  loyalty ;  but  no  earthly 
consideration  could  have  tempted  her  to  weaver  from 
the  strictest  letter  of  her  religious  duty,  as  that  duty 
was  interpreted  by  her  conscience.  It  cost  her  se- 
N  2 


150  HOPE   LESLIE. 

vere  struggles ;  but,  after  several  intimations  which 
Everell  did  not  understand,  she  constrained  herself 
to  say,  "  That  she  thought  they  had  not  Scripture 
warrant  for  interfering  between  the  prisoner  and  the 
magistrates." 

"  Scripture  warrant !"  exclaimed  Everell,  with  sur- 
prise and  vexation  he  could  not  conceal.  "  And  are 
you  to  do  no  act  of  mercy,  or  compassion,  or  justice, 
for  which  you  cannot  quote  a  text  from  Scripture  ?" 

"Scripture  hath  abundant  texts  to  authorize  all 
mercy,  compassion,  and  justice,  but  we  are  not  al- 
ways the  allowed  judges  of  their  application ;  and 
in  the  case  before  us  we  have  an  express  rule,  to 
which,  if  we  submit,  we  cannot  err ;  for  thou  well 
knowest,  Everell,  we  are  commanded,  in  the  first 
epistle  of  Peter,  second  chapter,  to  '  Submit  our- 
selves to  every  ordinance  of  man,  for  the  Lord's 
sake :  whether  it  be  to  the  king,  as  supreme  ;  or 
unto  governors,  as  unto  them  that  are  sent  by  him 
for  the  punishment  of  evil  doers,  and  for  the  praise 
of  them  that  do  well.'  " 

"  But  surely,  Esther,  there  must  be  warrant,  as 
you  call  it,  for  sometimes  resisting  legitimate  author- 
ity, or  all  our  friends  in  England  would  not  be  at 
open  war  with  their  king.  With  such  a  precedent, 
I  should  think  the  sternest  conscience  would  permit 
you  to  obey  the  generous  impulses  of  nature,  rather 
than  to  render  this  slavish  obedience  to  the  letter  of 
the  law." 

"  Oh,  Everell !  do  not  seek  to  blind  my  judgment. 
Our  friends  at  home  are  men  who  do  all  things  in 


HOPE    LESLIE.  151 

the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  are,  therefore,  doubtless 
guided  by  the  hght  of  Scripture  and  the  inward  tes- 
timony. But  they  cannot  be  a  rule  for  us  in  any 
measure;  and  for  me,  Everell,  it  would  be  to  sin 
presumptuously,  to  do  aught  in  any  way  to  counter- 
vail the  authority  of  those  chosen  servants  of  the 
Lord  whose  magistracy  we  are  privileged  to  live 
under." 

Everell  tried  all  argument  and  persuasion  to  sub- 
due her  scruples,  but  in  vain ;  she  had  some  text  or 
some  unquestioned  rule  of  duty  to  oppose  to  every 
reason  and  entreaty. 

To  an  ardent  young  man,  there  is  something  un- 
lovely, if  not  revolting,  in  the  sterner  virtues,  and 
particularly  when  they  oppose  those  objects  which 
he  may  feel  to  be  authorized  by  the  most  generous 
emotions  of  his  heart.  Everell  did  not  mean  to  be 
unjust  to  Esther — his  words  were  measured  and  loyal 
— but  he  felt  a  deep  conviction  that  there  w^as  a  pain- 
ful discord  between  them  ;  that  there  was,  to  use  the 
modern  German  term,  no  elective  alTinity.  In  the 
course  of  their  conversation,  he  said,  "  You  would 
not,  you  could  not,  thus  resist  my  wishes  if  you  knew 
Magawisca." 

"  Everell,"  she  replied,  "  those  who  love  you  need 
not  know  this  maiden  to  feel  that  they  would  save 
her  life  at  the  expense  of  their  owm,  if  they  might  do 
it  j"  and  then,  blushing  at  what  she  feared  might 
seem  an  empty  boast,  she  added,  "  but  I  do  know 
Magawisca ;  I  have  visited  her  in  her  prison  every 
day  since  she  has  been  there." 


1,52  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  God  bless  you  for  that,  Esther ;  but  why  did 
you  not  tell  me  V 

"  Because  my  uncle  only  permitted  me  access  to 
her  on  condition  that  I  kept  it  a  secret  from  you." 

"  Methinks  that  prohibition  was  as  useless  as 
cruel." 

"  No,  Everell ;  my  uncle  doubtless  anticipated 
such  applications  as  you  have  made  to-night,  and 
he  was  right  to  guard  me  from  temptation." 

"  He  might  securely  have  trusted  you  to  resist  it," 
thought  Everell.  But  he  tried  to  suppress  the  un- 
kind feeling,  and  asked  Esther  "  if  she  had  any  mo- 
tive in  visiting  Magawisca  thus  often,  beyond  the 
gratification  of  her  compassionate  disposition." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Esther ;  "  I  heard  my  uncle  say, 
that  if  Magawisca  could  be  induced  to  renounce  her 
heathenish  principles,  and  promise,  instead  of  follow- 
ing her  father  to  the  forest,  to  remain  here  and  join 
the  catechized  Indians,  he  thought  the  magistrates 
might  see  it  to  be  their  duty  to  overlook  her  past 
misdemeanours,  and  grant  her  Christian  privileges." 
Esther  paused  for  a  moment,  but  Everell  made  no 
comment,  and  she  proceeded,  in  a  tone  of  the  deep- 
est humility  :  "  I  knew  I  was  a  poor  instrument,  but 
I  hoped  a  blessing  on  the  prayer  of  faith  and  the  la- 
bour of  love.  I  set  before  her  her  temporal  and  her 
eternal  interest — life  and  death.  I  prayed  with 
her — I  exhorted  her  ;  but  oh  I  Everell,  she  is  obdu- 
rate ;  she  neither  fears  death,  nor  will  believe  that 
eternal  misery  awaits  her  after  death  !" 

To  Esther's   astonishment,  Everell,  though   he 


HOPE    LESLIE.  153 

looked  troubled,  neither  expressed  surprise  nor  dis- 
appointment at  the  result  of  her  labours,  but  imme- 
diately set  before  her  the  obvious  inference  from  it. 
"  You  see,  yourself,"  he  said,  "  by  your  own  expe- 
rience, there  is  but  one  way  of  aiding  Magawisca." 

"  It  is  unkind  of  you,  Everell,"  she  replied,  with 
a  trembling  voice,  "  to  press  me  farther ;  that  way, 
you  know,  my  path  is  hedged  up  ;"  and,  without 
saying  anything  more,  she  abruptly  left  the  room; 
but  she  had  scarcely  passed  the  threshold  of  the 
door,  when  her  gentle  heart  reproached  her  with 
harshness,  and  she  turned  to  soften  her  final  refusal. 
Everell  did  not  hear  her  returning  footsteps ;  he 
stood  wdth  his  back  to  the  door,  and  Esther  heard 
him  make  this  involuntary  apostrophe  :  "  Oh,  Hope 
Leslie  !  how  thy  unfettered  soul  would  have  answer- 
ed such  an  appeal !  why  has  fate  cruelly  severed 
us?" 

Esther  escaped  hastily,  and  without  his  observa- 
tion ;  and  the  scene  already  described  in  the  apart- 
ment of  the  young  ladies  ensued. 

Everell  Fletcher  must  not  be  reproached  with  be- 
ing a  disloyal  knight.  The  artifices  of  Sir  Philip 
Gardiner ;  the  false  light  in  which  our  heroine  had 
been  placed  by  her  embarrassments  wnth  Magawis- 
ca ;  the  innocent  manoeuvring  of  Madam  Winthrop ; 
and,  finally,  the  generous  rashness  of  Hope  Leslie, 
had  led  him,  step  by  step,  to  involve  himself  in  an 
engagement  with  Miss  Downing  ;  that  engagement 
had  just  been  made  known  to  her  protectors,  and 
ratified  by  them,  when  the  denouement  of  the  mys- 


154  IIOrE    LESLIE. 

terious  rendezvous  at  the  garden  explained  his  fatal 
mistake.  When  he  recurred  to  all  that  had  passed 
since  his  first  meeting  with  Hope  Leslie,  and  partic- 
ularly to  their  last  interview  at  the  garden,  when  he 
had  imputed  her  uncontrollable  emotion  to  her  sensi- 
bility in  relation  to  Sir  Philip,  he  had  reason  to  be- 
lieve he  was  beloved  by  the  only  being  he  had  ever 
loved.  But  in  what  cruel  circumstance  did  this  dis- 
covery find  him  !  His  troth  plighted  to  one  whose 
pure  and  tender  heart  he  had  long  possessed.  There 
was  but  one  honourable  course  for  him  to  pursue, 
and  on  that  he  firmly  resolved :  to  avoid  the  pres- 
ence of  Hope  Leslie  ;  to  break  the  chain  of  aflfection 
wrought  in  youth  and  riveted  in  manhood,  and  whose 
links  seemed  to  him  to  encompass  and  sustain  his 
very  life  ;  in  fine,  to  forget  the  past :  but,  alas  !  who 
can  convert  to  Lethe  the  sweetest  draughts  of 
memory  ? 

Hope's  dangerous  illness  had  suspended  all  his 
purposes ;  he  could  not  disguise  his  interest ;  and, 
indeed,  its  manifestations  excited  neither  surprise 
nor  remark,  for  it  seemed  sufficiently  accounted  for 
by  their  long  and  intimate  association.  While 
Hope's  life  w^as  in  peril,  even  Magawisca  was  for- 
gotten ;  but  the  moment  Hope's  convalescence  re- 
stored the  use  of  his  faculties,  they  were  all  devoted 
to  obtaining  Magawisca's  release,  and  he  had  left 
no  means  untried,  either  of  open  intercession  or 
clandestine  effort  3  but  all,  as  yet,  was  without  effect. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  155 


CHAPTER  \1II. 

"  What  trick,  what  device,  what  startiiig  hole  canst  thou  now  find 
out,  to  hide  thee  from  this  open  and  apparent  shame  ?'•' — Henry  IV. 

The  day  appointed  for  Magawisca's  trial  arose 
on  Boston  one  of  the  brightest  and  most  beautiful 
of  summer.  There  are  moments  of  deep  dejection 
and  gloom  in  every  one's  experience,  when  the  eye 
closes  against  the  beauty  of  light,  when  the  silence 
of  all  those  great  powers  that  surround  us  presses  on 
the  soul  like  the  indifference  of  a  friend,  and  when 
their  evolving  glories  overpower  the  wearied  spirit, 
as  the  splendours  of  the  sun  offend  the  sick  eye.  In 
this  diseased  state  of  mind,  Everell  wandered  about 
Boston  till  the  ringing  of  the  bell,  the  appointed 
signal,  gave  notice  that  the  court  was  about  to  open 
for  the  trial  of  the  Indian  prisoner.  He  then  turned 
his  footsteps  towards  the  house  where  the  sittings  of 
the  magistrates  were  held  y  and  on  reaching  it,  he 
found  a  crowd  had  already  assembled  in  the  room 
assigned  for  the  trial. 

At  one  extremity  of  the  apartment  was  a  platform 
of  two  or  three  feet  elevation,  on  which  sat  the  dep- 
uties and  magistrates  who  constituted  the  court,  and 
those  elders  who  had,  as  was  customary  on  sim- 
ilar occasions,  been  invited  to  be  present  as  ads'isory 
counsel.     The  New-England  people  have  always 


156  HOPE    LESLIE. 

evinced  a  fondness  for  asking  advice,  which  may, 
perhaps,  be  explained  by  the  freedom  with  which  it 
is  rejected.  A  few  seats  were  provided  for  those 
who  might  have  claims  to  be  selected  from  the  ordi- 
nary spectators  ;  two  of  these  were  occupied  by  the 
elder  Fletcher  and  Sir  Philip  Gardiner.  Everell  re- 
mained amid  the  multitude  unnoticed  and  unnoti- 
cing,  his  eye  roving  about  in  that  vague  and  inex- 
pressive manner  that  indicates  the  mind  holds  no  com- 
munion with  external  objects,  till  he  was  roused  by 
a  buzz  of  "  There  she  comes  !"  and  a  call  of  "  Make 
room  for  the  prisoner."  A  lane  was  opened,  and 
Magawisca  appeared,  preceded  and  followed  by  a 
constable.  A  man  of  middle  age  walked  beside 
her,  whose  deep-set  and  thoughtful  eye,  pale  brow, 
ascetic  complexion,  and  spare  person,  indicated  a  life 
of  self-denial,  and  of  physical  and  mental  labour; 
while  an  expression  of  love,  compassion,  and  benev- 
olence seemed,  like  the  seal  of  his  Creator,  affixed 
to  declare  him  a  minister  of  mercy  to  his  creatures. 
Everell  was  struck  with  the  aspect  and  position  of 
the  stranger,  and  inquired  of  the  person  standing* 
next  to  him  "  who  he  was." 

The  man  turned  on  him  a  look  of  astonishment 
which  expressed,  "  Who  are  you  that  ask  so  strange 
a  question  ?'  and  replied,  "  That  gentleman,  sir,  is 
the  '  apostle  of  New-England,'  though  it  much  of- 
fendeth  his  modesty  to  be  so  called." 

"  God  be  praised !"  thought  Everell.  "  Eliot"  (for 
he  was  familiar  with  the  title,  though  not  with  the 
person  of  th^t  excellent  man),  "  my  father's  friend ! 
This  augurs  well  for  Magawisca." 


,  HOPE    LESLIE.  157 

"  I  marvel,"  continued  his  informant,  "  that  Mr. 
EUot  should  in  this  manner  lend  his  countenance 
to  this  Jezebel,  See  with  what  an  air  she  comes 
among  her  betters,  as  if  she  were  queen  of  us  all." 

There  was  certainly  none  of  the  culprit  or  suiter 
in  the  aspect  of  Magawisca  :  neither  guilt,  nor  fear- 
fulness,  nor  submission.  Her  eyes  w^ere  downcast, 
but  with  the  modesty  of  her  sex ;  her  erect  attitude, 
her  free  and  lofty  tread,  and  the  perfect  composure 
of  her  countenance,  all  expressed  the  courage  and 
dignity  of  her  soul.  Her  national  pride  was  mani- 
fest in  the  care  with  which,  after  rejecting  with  dis- 
dain the  governor's  offer  of  an  English  dress,  she  had 
attired  herself  in  the  peculiar  costume  of  her  people. 
Her  collar,  bracelet,  girdle,  embroidered  moccasins, 
and  purple  mantle,  with  its  rich  border  of  bead  work, 
had  been  laid  aside  in  prison,  but  were  now  all  re- 
sumed, and  displayed  with  a  feeling  resembling  Nel- 
son's, when  he  emblazoned  himself  with  stars  and  or- 
ders to  appear  before  his  enemies  on  the  fatal  day 
of  his  last  battle. 

The  constable  led  her  to  the  prisoner's  bar.  There 
was  a  slight  convulsion  of  her  face  perceptible  as 
she  entered  it ;  and  when  her  attendant  signed  to  her 
to  seat  herself,  she  shook  her  head,  and  remained 
standing.  Everell,  moved  by  an  irresistible  impulse, 
forced  his  way  through  the  crowd,  and  placed  him- 
self beside  her.  Neither  spoke ;  but  the  sudden  flush 
of  a  sunbeam  on  the  October  leaf  is  not  more  bright 
nor  beautiful  than  the  colour  that  overspread  Maga- 
wisca's  olive  cheek.     This  speaking  suffusion,  and 

Vol.  it.— 0 


158  HOPE    LESLIE. 

the  tear  that  trembled  on  her  eyelids,  but  no  other 
sign,  expressed  her  consciousness  of  his  presence. 
The  magistrates  looked  at  Everell,  and  whispered 
together,  but  they  appeared  to  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  this  expression  of  his  feeling  was  natural 
and  harmless,  and  it  was  suffered  to  pass  unrepro- 
ved. 

The  governor,  as  chief  magistrate,  now  rose,  and 
requested  Mr.  Eliot  to  supplicate  Divine  assistance  in 
the  matter  they  were  about  to  enter  on.  The  good 
man  accordingly  performed  the  duty  with  earnest- 
ness and  particularity.  He  first  set  forth  the  wonder- 
working providence  of  God  in  making  their  enemies 
to  be  at  peace  with  them.  He  recounted,  in  the 
narrative  style,  then  much  used  in  public  devotions, 
the  various  occasions  on  which  they  had  found  their 
fears  of  the  savages  groundless,  and  their  alarms  un- 
founded. He  touched  on  divers  instances  of  "  kind- 
ness and  neighbourlike  conduct  that  had  been  shown 
them  by  the  poor  heathen  people,  who,  having  no 
law,  were  a  law  unto  themselves."  He  intimated 
that  the  Lord's  chosen  people  had  not  now,  as  of  old, 
been  selected  to  exterminate  the  heathen,  but  to  en- 
large the  bounds  of  God's  heritage,  and  to  convert 
these  strangers  and  aliens  to  servants  and  children  of 
the  Most  High.  He  alluded  to  the  well-known  and 
signal  mercies  received  from  the  mother  of  the  pris- 
oner, and  to  that  valiant  act  of  the  prisoner  herself, 
whereby  she  did  redeem  from  death,  and  captivity 
worse  than  death,  the  child — the  only  child — of  a 
sorelv-bereaved  man.     He  hinted  at  the  authorities 


HOPE    LESLIE.  159 

for  the  merciful  requital  of  these  deeds  in  the  prom- 
ises of  the  spies  of  Joshua  to  the  heathen  woman  of 
Jericho,  that  when  the  Lord  had  given  them  the 
land,  they  w^ould  deal  truly  with  her,  and  show  kind- 
ness to  her  and  to  her  father's  house ;  and  in  the  case 
of  David's  generosity  to  Mephibosheth,  the  son  of 
Jonathan,  the  son  of  Saul,  wherein  he  passed  by  the 
evil  that  Saul  had  done  him,  and  only  remembered 
the  favours  of  Jonathan.  He  alluded  to  the  ruined 
chief — the  old  father  on  whom  "  the  executed  wrath 
of  God  had  fallen  so  heavily,  that,  as  divers  testified, 
the  light  of  reason  was  quite  put  out,  and  he  was 
left  to  wander  up  and  down  among  the  tribes,  coun- 
selling revenges  to  which  none  listened."  And, 
finally,  he  dwelt  on  "  the  Gospel  spirit  of  forgiveness 
as  eminently  becoming  those  who,  being  set  on  a  hill 
in  the  wilderness,  were  to  show  their  light  to  the 
surrounding  nations,"  and  concluded  with  the  prayer 
that,  on  this  occasion,  Justice  and  Mercy  might  be 
made  publicly  to  kiss  each  other. 

When  he  had  done,  all  eyes  turned  again  on 
Magawisca ;  and  many  who  had  regarded  her  with 
scorn,  or,  at  best,  idle  curiosity,  now  looked  at  her 
with  softened  hearts  and  moistened  eyes.  Not  so  Sir 
Philip,  who  had  his  own  reasons  for  being  appre- 
hensive of  any  advance  Magawisca  might  make  in 
the  favour  of  her  judges.  He  whispered  to  a  magis- 
trate near  whom  he  sat,  "  Is  it  not  a  singular  proce- 
dure thus  to  convert  a  prayer  into  an  ex  'parte  state- 
ment of  the  case  ?" 

"  Very  singular,"  replied  the  good  man,  with  an 


160  HOPE    LESLIE. 

ominous  shake  of  the  head ;  "  but  Brother  EUot  hath 
an  overweening  kindness  towards  the  barbarians. 
We  shall  set  all  right,"  he  added,  with  one  of  those 
sagacious  nods  so  expressive  of  infallibility.  The 
governor  now  proceeded  to  give  an  outline  of  the 
charges  against  Magawisca,  and  the  testimony  that 
would  be  adduced  to  support  them.  He  suppressed 
nothing,  but  gave  a  colour  to  the  whole  which  plain- 
ly indicated  his  own  favourable  disposition  ;  and 
Everell  felt  lightened  of  half  his  fears.  Sir  Philip 
was  then  requested  to  relate  the  circumstances  that 
had,  through  his  instrumentality,  led  to  the  taking  of 
the  prisoner,  and  so  much  of  the  conversation  he  had 
heard  between  her  and  Miss  Leslie  as  might  serve  to 
elucidate  the  testimony  of  the  Indian,  who  had  pre- 
tended, by  his  information,  to  reveal  a  direful  con- 
spiracy. Sir  Philip  rose  ;  and  Magawisca,  for  the 
first  time,  raised  her  eyes  and  fixed  them  on  himj 
his  met  hers,  and  he  quailed  before  her  glance.  As 
if  to  test  the  power  of  conscience  still  farther,  at  this 
critical  moment  his  unhappy  page,  poor  Rosa,  press- 
ed through  the  crowd,  and,  giving  Sir  Philip  a  packet 
of  letters  just  arrived  from  England,  she  seated  her- 
self on  the  steps  of  the  platform  near  where  the 
knight  stood. 

Sir  Philip  threw  the  packet  on  the  table  before  the 
governor,  and  stood  for  a  few  moments  silent,  with 
his  eyes  downcast,  in  profound  meditation.  The  trial 
was  assuming  an  unexpected  and  startling  aspect. 
Sir  Philip  now  feared  he  had  counted  too  far  on  the 
popular  prejudices,  which  he  knew  were  arrayed 


HOPE    LESLIE.  161 

against  Magawisca,  as  one  of  the  diabolical  race  of 
the  Pequods.  He  perceived  that  all  the  weight  of 
Eliot's  influence  would  be  thrown  into  the  prisoner's 
scale,  and  that  the  governor  was  disposed,  not  only 
to  an  impartial,  but  to  a  merciful  investigation  of  her 
case. 

Reposing  confidently  on  the  extraordinary  favour 
that  had  been  manifested  towards  him  by  the  magis- 
trates, he  had  felt  certain  of  being  able  to  prevent 
Magawisca's  disclosure  of  their  interview  in  the  pris- 
on, or  to  avert  any  evil  consequence  to  himself,  by 
giving  it  the  air  of  a  malignant  contrivance,  to  be  ex- 
pected from  a  vengeful  savage,  against  one  who  had 
been  the  providential  instrument  of  her  detection. 
But  he  now  felt  that  this  might  be  a  difficult  task. 

He  had  at  first,  as  has  been  seen,  enlisted  against 
Magawisca,  not  from  any  malignant  feeling  towards 
her,  but  merely  to  advance  his  own  private  interests. 
In  the  progress  of  the  afl^air,  his  fate  had,  by  his  own 
act,  become  singularly  involved  with  hers.  Should 
she  be  acquitted,  he  might  be  impeached,  perhaps 
exposed  and  condemned,  by  her  testimony.  Allian- 
ces like  his  with  Rosa  were,  by  the  laws  of  the  col- 
ony, punished  by  severe  penalties.  These  would  be 
aggravated  by  the  discovery  of  his  imposture.  At 
once  perceiving  all  his  danger,  he  mentally  cursed 
the  foolhardiness  with  which  he  had  rushed,  unne- 
cessarily and  unwittingly,  to  the  brink  of  a  precipice. 

He  had  observed  Magawisca's  scrutinizing  eye 
turn  quickly  from  him  to  Rosa,  and  he  was  sure, 
from  her  intelligent  glances,  that  she  had  at  once 
O  2 


162  HOPE    LESLIE. 

come  to  the  conclusion  that  this  seeming  page  was 
the  subject  of  their  prison  interview.  Rosa  herself 
appeared,  to  his  alarmed  imagination,  to  be  sent  by 
Heaven  as  a  witness  against  him.  How  was  he  to 
escape  the  dangers  that  encompassed  him  1  He  had 
no  time  to  deliberate  on  the  most  prudent  course  to 
be  pursued.  The  most  obvious  was  to  inflame  the 
prejudices  of  Magawisca's  judges,  and  by  anticipa- 
tion to  discredit  her  testimony  ;  and  quick  of  inven- 
tion, and  unembarrassed  by  the  instincts  of  humanity, 
he  proceeded,  after  faithfully  relating  the  conversa- 
tion in  the  churchyard  between  the  prisoner  and 
Miss  Leslie,  to  detail  the  following  gratuitous  par- 
ticularSo 

He  said  "  that,  after  conducting  Miss  Leslie  to  the 
governor's  door,  he  had  immediately  returned  to  his 
own  lodgings,  and  that,  induced  by  the  still  raging 
storm  to  make  his  walk  as  short  as  possible,  he  took 
a  cross-cut  through  the  burial  ground  ;  that,  on  com- 
ing near  the  upper  extremity  of  the  enclosure,  he 
fancied  he  heard  a  human  voice  mingling  w^ith  the 
din  of  the  storm  ;  that  he  paused,  and  directly  a  flash 
of  lightning  discovered  Magawisca  kneeling  on  the 
bare  wet  earth,  making  those  monstrous  and  violent 
contortions,  which  all  w^ho  heard  him  well  knew 
characterized  the  devil-worship  of  the  powwows; 
he  would  not,  he  ought  not  repeat  to  Christian  ears 
her  invocations  to  the  Evil  One  to  aid  her  in  the  exe- 
cution of  her  revenge  on  the  English ;  nor  would  he 
more  particularly  describe  her  diabolical  writhings 
and  beatings  of  her  person.     His  brethren  might 


HOPE    LESLIE.  163 

easily  imagine  his  emotions  at  witnessing  them  by 
the  sulphureous  gleams  of  lightning,  on  which,  doubt- 
less, her  prayers  were  sped." 

Sir  Philip  had  gained  confidence  as  he  proceeded 
in  his  testimony,  for  he  perceived  by  the  fearful  and 
angry  glances  that  were  cast  on  the  prisoner,  that 
his  tale  was  credited  by  many  of  his  audience,  and 
he  hoped  by  all. 

The  notion  that  the  Indians  were  the  children  of 
the  devil  was  not  confined  to  the  vulgar ;  and  the 
belief  in  a  familiar  intercourse  wdth  evil  spirits,  now 
rejected  by  all  but  the  most  ignorant  and  credulous, 
was  then  universally  received. 

All  had,  therefore,  listened  in  respectful  silence  to 
Sir  Philip's  extraordinary  testimony,  and  it  was  too 
evident  that  it  had  the  effect  to  set  the  current  of 
feeling  and  opinion  against  the  prisoner.  Her  few 
friends  looked  despondent;  but  for  herself,  true  to 
the  spirit  of  her  race,  she  manifested  no  surprise  nor 
emotion  of  any  kind. 

The  audience  listened  eagerly  to  the  magistrate, 
who  read  from  his  note-book  the  particulars  which 
had  been  received  from  the  Indian  informer,  and 
which  served  to  corroborate  and  illustrate  Sir  Phil- 
ip's testimony.  All  the  evidence  being  now  before 
the  court,  the  governor  asked  Magawisca  "  if  she 
had  aught  to  allege  in  her  own  defence.'^ 

''  Speak  humbly,  maiden,"  whispered  Mr.  Eliot ; 
"  it  will  grace  thy  cause  with  thy  judges." 

"  Say,"  said  Everell,  "  that  you  are  a  stranger  to 
our  laws  and  usages,  and  demand  some  one  to  speak 
for  you." 


164  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Magawisca  bowed  her  head  to  both  advisers,  in 
token  of  acknowledgment  of  their  interest,  and  then, 
raising  her  eyes  to  her  judges,  she  said,  *'  I  am  your 
prisoner,  and  ye  may  slay  me,  but  I  deny  your  right 
to  judge  me.  My  people  have  never  passed  under 
your  yoke;  not  one  of  my  race  has  ever  acknowl- 
edged your  authority." 

"  This  excuse  will  not  suffice  thee,"  answered  one 
of  her  judges ;  "  thy  pride  is  like  the  image  of  Neb- 
uchadnezzar's dream — it  standeth  on  feet  of  clay : 
thy  race  have  been  swift  witnesses  to  that  sure  word 
of  prophecy,  *  Fear  thou  not,  0  Jacob,  my  servant, 
for  I  am  with  thee,  and  I  will  make  a  full  end  of  the 
people  whither  I  have  driven  thee;'  thy  people! 
truly,  where  are  they  1" 

"  My  people !  where  are  they  ?"  she  replied,  rais- 
ing her  eyes  to  Heaven,  and  speaking  in  a  voice  that 
sounded  like  deep-toned  music  after  the  harsh  tones 
addressed  to  her ;  "  my  people  are  gone  to  the  isles 
of  the  sweet  southwest — to  those  shores  that  the  bark 
of  an  enemy  can  never  touch :  think  ye  I  fear  to 
follow  them  ?" 

There  was  a  momentary  silence  throughout  the 
assembly ;  all  seemed,  for  an  instant,  to  feel  that  no 
human  power  could  touch  the  spirit  of  the  captive. 
Sir  Philip  whispered  to  the  magistrate  who  last 
spoke,  "  Is  it  not  awful  presumption  for  this  woman 
thus  pubhcly  to  glory  in  her  heathen  notions  ?" 

The  knight's  prompting  had  the  intended  effect. 
"  Has  this  Pequod  woman,"  demanded  the  magis- 
trate, "  never  been  instructed  in  the  principles  of 


HOPE    LESLIE.  165 

truth,  that  she  dares  thus  to  hold  forth  her  heathen- 
isms before  us "?  Dost  thou  not  know,  woman,"  he 
continued,  holding  up  a  Bible,  "  that  this  book  con- 
tains the  only  revelation  of  a  future  world — the  only 
rule  for  the  present  life  1" 

"  I  know,"  she  replied,  "  that  it  contains  thy  rule, 
and  it  may  be  needful  for  thy  mixed  race  -,  but  the 
Great  Spirit  hath  written  his  laws  on  the  hearts  of 
his  original  children,  and  we  need  it  not." 

"  She  is  of  Satan's  heritage,  and  our  enemy — a 
proved  conspirator  against  the  peace  of  God's  peo- 
ple, and  I  see  not  why  she  should  not  be  cut  off," 
said  the  same  gentleman,  addressing  his  brethren  in 
office. 

"  The  testimony,"  said  another  of  the  magistrates, 
in  a  low  voice,  in  which  reason  and  mildness  min- 
gled, and  truly  indicated  the  disposition  of  th.e  speak- 
er, "  the  testimony  appeareth  to  me  insufficient  to 
give  peace  to  our  consciences  in  bringing  her  to  ex- 
tremity. She  seems,  after  her  own  manner,  to  be 
guided  by  the  truth.  Let  the  governor  put  it  to  her 
whether  she  will  confess  the  charges  laid  against 
her." 

The  governor  accordingly  appealed  to  the  prison- 
er. "I  neither  confess  nor  deny  aught,"  she  said. 
"  I  stand  here  like  a  deer  caught  in  a  thicket,  await- 
ing the  arrow  of  the  hunter." 

Sir  Philip  again  whispered  to  his  next  neighbour, 
who,  unconsciously  obeying  the  knight's  crafty  sug- 
gestions, seemed  to  have  become  the  conductor  of 
the  prosecution.     "  She  hath  the  dogged  obstinacy  of 


166  HOPE    LESLIE. 

all  the  Pequod  race,"  said  he, "  and  it  hath  long  been 
my  opinion  that  we  should  never  have  peace  in  the 
land  till  their  last  root  was  torn  from  the  soil." 

"You  may  be  right, brother,"  replied  the  govern- 
or, "  but  it  becometh  us,  as  Christian  men,  to  walk 
circumspectly  in  this  matter :"  then,  opening  a  note- 
book, elevating  his  voice,  and  turning  to  the  knight, 
he  added,  "  I  observe  that  your  present  testimony, 
Sir  Philip,  hath  not  kept  equal  pace  with  that  taken 
down  from  your  lips  on  a  former  occasion.  I  have 
looked  over  these  memoranda  with  a  careful  eye, 
and  I  do  not  perceive  even  an  intimation  of  your 
having  seen  the  prisoner  after  parting  with  Hope 
Leslie." 

The  knight  had  anticipated  this  scrutiny,  and  was 
prepared  to  answer  it :  "  I  was  not  upon  oath  then," 
he  replied,  "  and,  of  course,  was  not  required  to  dis- 
close the  whole  truth ;  and,  besides,  it  was  then,  as 
your  excellency  may  remember,  doubtful  whether 
the  prisoner  would  be  taken,  and  I  was  reluctant 
to  magnify,  unnecessarily,  the  apprehensions  of  the 
paternal  guardians  of  the  people." 

Though  this  insinuated  compliment  w^as  enforced 
by  a  deferential  bow  to  the  governor,  he  passed  it 
over,  and  replied  to  the  first  clause  of  Sir  Philip's  re- 
joinder :  "  You  allege,  Sir  Philip  Gardiner,  that  you 
were  not  then  on  oath — neither  have  you  been  now ; 
w^o  not  require  a  member  of  the  congregation  to 
take  the  oath,  unless  charged  by  the  party  against 
>^_whom  he  testifies.  What  say  est  thou,  maiden  :  shall 
I  administer  the  oath  to  him  ?" 


HOPE    LESLIE.  167 

"  Certainly — require  the  oath  of  him,"  whispered 
Everell  to  Magawisca. 

Magawisca  bowed  her  assent  to  the  governor. 

Sir  Phihp  would  not  probably  have  been  so  prompt 
in  his  false  testimony  if  he  had  anticipated  being 
put  on  his  oath ;  for  he  was  far  enough  from  having 
one  of  those  religious  consciences  that  regard  truth 
as  so  sacred  that  no  ceremonies  can  add  to  its  au- 
thority. But  now,  his  word  being  questioned,  it  be- 
came necessary  for  him  to  recede  from  it,  or  to  main- 
tain it  in  the  usual  legal  form ;  and,  without  hesita- 
ting, he  advanced  to  the  table,  raised  his  hand,  and 
went  through  the  customary  form  of  the  oath.  The 
coUectedness  and  perfect  equanimity  of  Magawisca, 
to  this  moment,  had  seemed  to  approach  to  indiffer- 
ence to  her  fate ;  but  the  persevering  falsehood  of 
Sir  Philip,  and  the  implicit  faith  in  which  it  was  ap- 
parently received,  now  roused  her  spirit,  and  stimu- 
lated that  principle  of  retaliation,  deeply  planted  in 
the  nature  of  every  human  being,  and  rendered  a 
virtue  by  savage  education.  She  took  a  crucifix 
from  her  bosom  :  Everell  whispered,  "  I  pray  thee 
hide  that,  Magawisca  ',  it  will  ruin  thy  cause."  Mag- 
awisca shook  her  head,  and  held  up  the  crucifix. 

"Put  down  that  idolatrous  sign,"  said  the  gov- 
ernor. 

"  She  hath  doubtless  fallen  under  popish  enchant- 
ments," whispered  one  of  the  deputies  ;  "  the  French  ■ 
priests  have  spread  their  nets  throughout  the  western 
forests." 

Magawisca,  without  heeding  the  governor's  com- 


168  HOPE    LESLIE. 

mand,  or  observing  the  stares  of  astonishment  that 
her  seeming  hardihood  drew  upon  her,  addressed 
herself  to  Sir  Phihp  :  "  This  crucifix,"  she  said,  "  thou 
didst  drop  in  my  prison.  If,  as  thou  saidst,  it  is  a 
charmed  figure,  that  hath  power  to  keep  thee  in  the 
straight  path  of  truth,  then  press  it  to  thy  hps  now, 
as  thou  didst  then,  and  take  back  the  false  words 
thou  hast  spoken  against  me." 

"What  doth  she  meani"  asked  the  governor, 
turning  to  Sir  Philip. 

"  I  know  not,"  replied  the  knight,  his  reddening 
face  and  embarrassed  utterance  indicating  he  knew 
that  which  he  dared  not  confess  ;  "  I  know  not ;  but 
I  should  marvel  if  this  heathen  savage  were  permit- 
ted, with  impunity,  to  insult  me  in  your  open  court. 
I  call  upon  the  honourable  magistrates  and  deputies," 
he  continued,  with  a  more  assured  air,  "  to  impose 
silence  on  this  woman,  lest  her  uttered  malignities 
should,  in  the  minds  of  the  good  people  here  assem- 
bled, bring  scandal  upon  one  whose  humble  claims 
to  fellowship  with  you  you  have  yourselves  sanc- 
tioned." 

The  court  were  for  a  moment  silent;  every  eye 
was  turned  towards  Magawisca,  in  the  hope  that  she 
would  be  suffered  to  make  an  explanation ;  and  the 
emotions  of  curiosity  coinciding  with  the  dictates  of 
justice  in  the  bosoms  of  the  sage  judges  themselves, 
wiJre  very  likely  to  counteract  the  favour  any  of  them 
might  have  felt  for  Sir  Philip.  Everell  rose  to  ap- 
peal to  the  court  to  permit  Magawisca  to  invalidate, 
as  far  as  she  was  able,  the  testimony  against  her ;  but 


HOPE    LESLIE.  169 

Mr.  Eliot  laid  his  hand  on  his  arm,  and  withheld 
him.  "  Stay,  my  young  friend,"  he  whispered  ;  "  I 
may  speak  more  acceptably."  Then,  addressing  the 
court,  he  "prayed  the  prisoner  might  be  allow^ed 
liberty  to  speak  freely,  alleging  it  w^as  for  the  wis- 
dom of  her  judges  to  determine  what  weight  was  to 
be  attached  to  her  testimony  3"  ?.nd,  glancing  his  eye 
at  Sir  Philip,  he  added,  "  The  upright  need  not  fear 
the  light  of  truth." 

Sir  Philip  again  remonstrated ;  he  asked  "  why 
the  prisoner  should  be  permitted  farther  to  offend  the 
consciences  of  the  godly  ?  Surely,"  he  said,  "  none 
of  her  judges  would  enforce  her  demand ;  surely, 
having  just  sworn  before  them  in  the  prescribed  form, 
they  would  not  require  him  to  repeat  his  oath  on  that 
symbol  of  Popish  faith,  that  had  been  just  styled  an 
idolatrous  sign." 

"This,  I  think,  Brother  Eliot,  is  not  what  thou 
wouldst  ask  ?"  said  Governor  Winthrop. 

"  Nay,  God  forbid  that  I  should  bring  such  scan- 
dal upon  our  land.  It  is  true,  I  have  known  many 
misguided  sons  of  the  Romish  Church  who  would 
swear  freely  on  the  Holy  Word  what  they  dared  not 
verify  on  the  crucifix;  which  abundantly  showeth 
that  superstition  is,  with  such,  stronger  than  faith. 
But  we,  I  think,  have  no  warrant  for  using  such  a 
test,  neither  do  w^e  need  it.  The  prisoner  hath  as- 
serted that  this  symbol  belongeth  to  Sir  Philip  Gar- 
diner, and  that  he  did  use  it  to  fortify  his  word ;  if 
so,  the  credit  of  his  present  testimony  would  be  main- 
ly altered ;  and  it  seemeth  to  me  but  just  that  the 

Vol.  IL— P 


170  HOPE    LESLIE. 

prisoner  should  not  only  be  allowed,  but  required  to 
state  in  full  that  to  which  she  hath  but  alluded." 

A  whispered  consultation  of  the  magistrates  fol- 
lowed this  proposition,  during  which  Sir  Philip 
seemed  virtually  to  have  changed  places  with  the 
prisoner,  and  appeared  as  agitated  as  if  he  were  on 
the  verge  of  condemnation :  his  brow  was  knit,  his 
lips  compressed,  and  his  eye,  whose  movement 
seemed  beyond  his  control,  flashed  from  the  bench 
of  magistrates  to  Magawisca,  and  then  fixed  on 
Rosa,  as  if  he  would  fain  have  put  annihilation  in  its 
glance.  This  unhappy  girl  still  sat  where  she  had 
first  seated  herself;  she  had  taken  otf  her  hat,  laid  it 
on  her  lap,  and  rested  her  face  upon  it. 

There  was  a  vehement  remonstrance  from  some  of 
the  members  of  the  court  against  permitting  the 
prisoner  to  criminate  one  who  had  shown  himself 
well  and  zealously  affected  towards  them.  And  it 
was  urged,  with  some  plausibility,  that  the  hints  she 
had  received  of  the  advantage  to  be  gained  by  dis- 
qualifying Sir  Philip,  would  tempt  her  to  contrive 
some  crafty  tale  that  might  do  him  a  wrong  which 
they  could  not  repair.  The  governor  answered  this 
argument  by  suggesting  that  they,  being  forewarned, 
were  forearmed,  and  might  certainly  rely  on  their  own 
sagacity  to  detect  any  imposture.  Of  course,  no  in- 
dividual was  forward  to  deny,  for  himself,  such  an 
allegation,  and  the  governor  proceeded  to  request 
Magawisca  to  state  the  circumstances  to  which  she 
alluded  as  having  transpired  in  the  prison.  Maga- 
wisca now,  for  the  first  time,  appeared  to  hesitate, 
to  deliberate,  and  to  feel  embarrassed. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  171 

"  Why  dost  thou  falter,  woman  ?"  demanded  one 
of  her  judges ;  "'  no  time  shall  be  allowed  now  to 
contrive  a  false  testimony  ;  proceed — speak  quick- 
ly !" 

"  Fear  not  to  speak,  Magawisca,"  whispered  Ev- 
erell. 

"  I  do  fear  to  speak,"  she  rephed  aloud  ;  "  but  it 
is  such  fear  as  he  hath,  who,  seeing  the  prey  in  the 
eagle's  talons,  is  loath  to  hurl  his  arrow,  lest,  per- 
chance, it  should  wound  the  innocent  victim." 

"  Speak  not  in  parables,  Magawisca,"  said  Gov- 
ernor Winthrop,  "  but  let  us  have  thy  meaning 
plainly." 

"  Then,"  replied  Magawisca,  "  let  me  first  crave 
of  thy  mercy  that  that  poor  youth  (pointing  to  Rosa) 
withdraw  from  this  presence." 
.  All  eyes  were  now  directed  to  Rosa,  who,  herself 
conscious  that  she  had  become  the  object  of  atten- 
tion, raised  her  head,  threw  back  the  rich  feminine 
curls  that  drooped  over  her  face,  and  looked  wildly 
around  her.  On  every  side  her  eye  encountered 
glances  of  curiosity  and  suspicion  -,  her  colour  deep- 
ened, her  lips  quivered,  and,  like  a  bewildered,  ter- 
rified child,  that  instinctively  flies  to  its  mother's  side, 
she  sprang  up  the  steps,  grasped  Sir  Philip's  cloak 
as  if  she  w^ould  have  hidden  herself  in  its  folds,  and 
sunk  dovvn  at  his  feet.  Sir  Philip's  passions  had 
risen  to  an  uncontrollable  pitch :  "  Off!  boy,"  he 
cried,  spurning  her  with  his  foot.  A  murmur  of 
"  Shame !  Cruelty  !"  ran  through  the  house.  The 
unhappy  girl  rose  to  her  feet,  pressed  both  her  hands 


172  HOPE    LESLIE. 

on  her  forehead,  stared  vacantly  about,  as  if  her  rea- 
son were  trembling  on  the  verge  of  annihilation,  then 
darting  forward,  she  penetrated  through  the  crowd 
and  disappeared. 

There  were  few  persons  present  so  dull  as  not  to 
have  solved  Magawisca's  parable  at  the  instant  the 
clew  was  given  by  Rosa's  involuntary  movements. 
Still,  all  they  had  discovered  was  that  the  page  was 
a  disguised  girl ;  and  a  hope  darted  on  Sir  Philip,  in 
the  midst  of  his  overwhelming  confusion,  that,  if  he 
could  gain  time,  he  might  escape  the  dangers  that 
menaced  him.  He  rose,  and  with  an  effrontery  that 
with  some  passed  for  the  innocence  he  would  fain 
have  counterfeited,  said  "  that  circumstances  had 
just  transpired  in  that  honourable  presence  which 
no  doubt  seemed  mysterious  ;  that  he  could  not  then 
explain  them  without  uselessly  exposing  the  unhap- 
py ;  for  the  same  reason,  namely,  to  avoid  unneces- 
sary suffering,  he  begged  that  no  interrogatories 
might  at  the  present  moment  be  put  to  the  prisoner 
in  relation  to  the  hints  she  had  thrown  out ;  that,  if 
the  governor  would  vouchsafe  him  a  private  inter- 
view, he  would,  on  the  sure  word  of  a  Christian  man, 
clear  up  whatever  suspicions  had  been  excited  by  the 
dark  intimations  of  the  prisoner,  and  the  very  singu- 
lar conduct  of  his  page." 

The  governor  replied,  with  a  severe  gravity,  omi- 
nous to  the  knight,  "  That  the  circumstances  he  had 
alluded  to  certainly  required  explanation  ;  if  that 
should  not  prove  satisfactory,  they  would  demand  a 
pubhc  investigation.     In  the  mean  time,  he  should 


HOPE    LESLIE.  173 

suspend  the  trial  of  the  prisoner,  who,  though  the 
decision  of  her  case  might  not  wholly  depend  on  the 
establishment  of  Sir  Philip's  testimony,  was  yet,  at 
present,  materially  affected  by  it. 

"  He  expressed  a  deep  regret  at  the  interruption 
that  had  occurred,  as  it  must  lead,"  he  said,  "  to  the 
suspension  of  the  justice  to  be  manifested,  either  in 
the  acquittal  or  condemnation  of  the  prisoner.  Some 
of  the  magistrates  being  called  away  from  town  on 
the  next  morning,  he  found  himself  compelled  to  ad- 
journ the  sitting  of  the  court  till  one  month  from  the 
present  date." 

"  Then,"  said  Magawisca,  for  the  first  time  speak- 
ing with  a  tone  of  impatience,  "  then,  I  pray  you, 
send  me  to  death  now.  Anything  is  better  than 
wearing  through  another  moon  in  my  prison-house, 
thinking,"  she  added,  and  cast  down  her  eyelids, 
heavy  wath  tears,  "  thinking  of  that  old  man — my 
father.  I  pray  thee,"  she  continued,  bending  low 
her  head,  "  I  pray  thee  now  to  set  me  free.  Wait 
not  for  his  testimony" — she  pointed  to  Sir  Philip  : 
"  as  well  may  ye  expect  the  green  herb  to  spring  up 
in  your  trodden  streets,  as  the  breath  of  truth  to  come 
from  his  false  lips.  Do  you  wait  for  him  to  prove 
that  I  am  your  enemy  ?  Take  my  own  w^ord — I  am 
your  enemy;  the  sunbeam  and  the  shadow  cannot 
mingle.  The  white  man  cometh — the  Indian  van- 
isheth.  Can  we  grasp  in  friendship  the  hand  raised 
to  strike  us  ?  Nay  :  and  it  matters  not  whether  we 
fall  by  the  tempest  that  lays  the  forest  low,  or  are 
cut  down  alone  by  the  stroke  of  the  axe.  I  would 
P  2 


174  HOPE    LESLIE. 

have  thanked  you  for  life  and  liberty ;  for  Mononot- 
to's  sake  I  would  have  thanked  you ;  but  if  ye  send 
me  back  to  that  dungeon — the  grave  of  the  living, 
feeling,  thinking  soul,  where  the  sun  never  shineth, 
where  the  stars  never  rise  nor  set,  where  the  free 
breath  of  Heaven  never  enters,  where  all  is  darkness 
without  and  within" — she  pressed  her  hand  on  her 
breast — "  ye  will  even  now  condemn  me  to  death, 
but  death  more  slow  and  terrible  than  your  most 
suffering  captive  ever  endured  from  Indian  fires  and 
knives."  She  paused ;  passed  unresisted  without 
the  little  railing  that  encompassed  her,  mounted  the 
steps  of  the  platform,  and,  advancing  to  the  feet  of 
the  governor,  threw  back  her  mantle,  and  knelt  be- 
fore him.  Her  mutilated  person,  unveiled  by  this 
action,  appealed  to  the  senses  of  the  spectators.  Ev- 
erell  involuntarily  closed  his  eyes,  and  uttered  a  cry 
of  agony,  lost,  indeed,  in  the  murmurs  of  the  crowd. 
She  spoke,  and  all  again  w^ere  as  hushed  as  death. 
"  Thou  didst  promise,"  she  said,  addressing  herself 
to  Governor  Winthrop,  "  to  my  dying  mother  thou 
didst  promise  kindness  to  her  children.  In  her  name, 
I  demand  of  thee  death  or  liberty." 

Everell  sprang  forward,  and,  clasping  his  hands, 
exclaimed,  ^'  In  the  name  of  God,  liberty  !" 

The  feeling  was  contagious,  and  every  voice,  save 
her  judges,  shouted  "  Liberty  !  liberty  1  Grant  the 
prisoner  liberty !" 

The  -governor  rose,  waved  his  hand  to  command 
silence,  and  would  have  spoken,  but  his  voice  failed 
him ;  his  heart  was  touched  with  the  general  emo- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  175 

tion,  and  he  was  fain  to  turn  away  to  hide  tears 
more  becoming  to  the  man  than  the  magistrate. 

The  same  gentleman  who,  throughout  the  trial, 
had  been  most  forward  to  speak,  now  rose — a  man 
of  metal  to  resist  any  fire.  "  Are  ye  all  fools,  and 
mad  !"  he  cried ;  "  ye  that  are  gathered  here  togeth- 
er, that,  like  the  men  of  old,  ye  shout '  Great  is  Diana 
of  the  Ephesians !'  For  whom  would  you  stop  the 
course  of  justice  ?  for  one  who  is  charged  before  you 
with  having  visited  every  tribe  on  the  shores  and  in 
the  forests,  to  quicken  the  savages  to  diabolical  re- 
venge ;  for  one  who  flouts  the  faith  once  delivered  to 
the  saints  to  your  very  faces !  for  one  who  hath  en- 
tered into  an  open  league  and  confederacy  with  Sa- 
tan against  you !  for  one  who,  as  ye  have  testimony 
w^ithin  yourselves,  in  that  her  looks  and  words  do  so 
prevail  over  your  judgments,  is  presently  aided  and 
abetted  by  the  arch  enemy  of  mankind — I  call  upon 
you,  my  brethren,"  he  added,  turning  to  his  associ- 
ates, "  and  most  especially  on  you,  Governor  Win- 
throp,  to  put  a  sudden  end  to  this  confusion  by  the 
formal  adjournment  of  our  court." 

The  governor  bowed  his  assent.  "  Rise,  Maga- 
wisca,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  of  gentle  authority ;  "  I 
may  not  grant  thy  prayer ;  but  what  I  can  do  in  re- 
membrance of  my  solemn  promise  to  thy  dying  moth- 
er, without  leaving  undone  higher  duty,  I  will  do." 

"  And  what  mortal  can  do,  I  will  do,"  said  Ever- 
ell,  whispering  the  words  into  Magawisca's  ear  as 
she  rose.  The  cloud  of  despondency  that  had  settled 
over  her  fine  face  for  an  instant  vanished,  and  she 


176  HOPE    LESLIE. 

said  aloud,  "  Everell  Fletcher,  ray  dungeon  will  not 
be,  as  I  said,  quite  dark,  for  thither  I  bear  the  mem- 
ory of  thy  kindness." 

Some  of  the  magistrates  seemed  to  regard  this 
slight  interchange  of  expressions  between  the  captive 
and  her  champion  as  indecorous :  the  constables  were 
ordered  immediately  to  perform  their  duty,  by  re- 
conducting their  prisoner  to  jail ;  and  Magawisca 
was  led  out,  leaving  in  the  breasts  of  a  great  major- 
ity of  the  audience  a  strange  contrariety  of  opinion 
and  feelings  :  their  reason,  guided  by  the  best  lights 
they  possessed,  deciding  against  her,  the  voice  of 
nature  crying  out  for  her. 

Before  the  parties  separated,  the  governor  arranged 
a  private  interview  with  Sir  Philip  Gardiner,  to  take 
place  at  his  own  house  immediately  after  dinner. 


m 


HOPE    LESLIE.  177 


CHAPTER  IX. 

**  Ye're  like  to  the  timmer  o'  yon  rotten  wood, 
Ye're  like  to  the  bark  o'  yon  rotten  tree, 
Ye'll  slip  frae  me  like  a  knotless  thread, 
And  ye'll  crack  your  credit  wi'  mae  nor  me." 

Burns. 

At  the  period  of  our  history,  twelve  o'clock  was 
the  hour  appointed  for  dinner:  we  believe  in  the 
mother-country — certainly  in  the  colony  then,  as 
now,  everywhere  in  the  interior  of  our  states,  this 
natural  division  of  time  was  maintained.  Our  ma- 
gistrates did  not  then  claim  any  exemption  from  the 
strict  rules  of  simplicity  and  frugality  that  were  im- 
posed on  the  humble  citizens,  and  Governor  Win- 
throp's  meridian  meal,  though  it  might  have  been 
somewhat  superior  in  other  luxuries,  had  no  more  of 
the  luxury  of  time  bestowed  on  it  than  that  of  the 
honest  artisans  and  tradesmen  about  him. 

In  order  to  explain  what  fallows,  it  is  necessary 
to  state  to  our  readers,  that  adjoining  the  parlour  of 
Governor  Winthrop's  mansion  was  that  sine  qua  non 
of  all  thrifty  housekeepers,  an  ample  pantry.  In  the 
door  of  this  pantry  was  a  glazed  panel,  over  the  par- 
lour side  of  which  hung  a  green  curtain.  The  glass 
had  been  broken,  and  not  yet  repaired;  and,  let 
housewives  take  the  admonition  if  they  like,  on  this 
slight  accident  depended  life  and  death. 


178  HOPE    LESLIE. 

The  pantry,  besides  the  door  already  described,  had 
another,  which  communicaled  with  the  kitchen ; 
through  this  Jennet  (who  in  housewife  skill  resem- 
bled the  "  neat-handed  Phillis"  of  poetic  fame, 
though  in  other  respects  prosaic  enough)  had  en- 
tered to  perform  within  the  sanctum  certain  confi- 
dential services  for  Madam  Winthrop. 

It  now  drew  near  the  hour  of  two,  the  time  ap- 
pointed for  the  interview"  of  the  governor  with  Sir 
Philip  ;  the  dinner  was  over,  the  table  removed,  and 
all  orderly  and  quiet  in  the  parlour,  w^hen  Jennet,  in 
her  retreat,  heard  Miss  Leslie  and  Mr.  Everell 
Fletcher  enter,  and,  though  the  weather  w^as  w^arm, 
close  the  door  after  them.  A  slight  hint  is  sufficient 
for  the  wary  and  wise ;  and  Jennet,  on  hearing  the 
door  shut,  forbore  to  make  any  noise  which  should 
apprize  the  parties  of  her  proximity. 

The  young  people,  as  if  fearful  of  being  overheard 
"without,  withdrew  to  the  farthest  extremity  from  the 
entry  door,  and  came  into  the  corner  adjoining  the 
pantry.  They  spoke,  though  in  low  tones,  yet  in 
the  most  earnest  and  animated  manner  ;  and  Jennet, 
tempted  beyond  wha^  she  was  able  to  bear,  drew 
nigh  to  the  door  with  a  cat's  tread,  and  applied  her 
ear  to  the  aperture,  where  the  sounds  were  only 
slightly  obstructed  by  the  silk  curtain. 

While  speakers  and  listener  stood  in  this  interest- 
ing relation  to  each  other,  Sir  Philip  Gardiner  was 
approaching  the  mansion,  his  bad  mind  filled  with 
projects,  hopes,  and  fears.  He  had,  after  much  pain- 
ful study,  framed  the  following  story,  which  he  hoped 


HOPE    LESLIE.  179 

to  impose  on  the  credulity  of  the  governor,  and, 
through  him,  of  the  pubhc.  His  sole  care  was  to 
avoid  present  investigation  and  detection ;  in  navi- 
gating a  winding  channel,  he  regarded  only  the  dif- 
ficulties directly  before  him. 

He  meant  that,  in  the  first  place,  by  way  of  a  coup 
de  grace,  the  governor  should  understand  he  had  in- 
tentionally acquiesced  in  the  discovery  of  Rosa's  dis- 
guise. He  would  then,  as  honest  Varney  did,  con- 
fess there  had  been  some  love-passages  between  the 
girl  and  himself  in  the  days  of  his  folly.  He  would 
state  that,  subsequent  to  his  conversion,  he  had  pla- 
ced her  in  a  godly  school  in  England,  and  that,  to 
his  utter  confusion,  he  had  discovered,  after  he  had 
sailed  from  London,  that  she  had,  in  the  disguise  she 
still  wore,  secreted  herself  on  board  the  ship.  He 
had,  perhaps,  felt  too  much  indulgence  for  the  girl's 
youth  and  unconquerable  affection  for  him  ;  but  he 
should  hope  that  was  not  an  unpardonable  sin.  He 
had  been  restrained  from  divulging  her  real  charac- 
ter on  shipboard,  from  his  reluctance  to  expose  her 
youth  to  insult  or  farther  temptation.  On  his  arrival, 
he  w^as  conscious  it  was  a  manifest  duty  to  have  de- 
livered her  over  to  the  public  authorities ;  but  pity — 
pity  still  had  ruled  him.  He  scrupled — perhaps  that 
was  a  temptation  of  the  enemy,  who  knew  well  to 
assail  the  weakest  points — he  scrupled  to  give  over 
to  public  shame  one,  of  whose  transgressions  he  had 
been  the  cause.  Besides,  she  hsM  been  bred  in 
France — a  Papist ;  and  he  had  hoped — trusting,  per- 
haps, too  much  in  his  own  strength — that  he  might 


180  HOPE    LESLIE. 

convert  her  from  the  error  of  her  ways — snatch  the 
brand  from  the  burning ;  he  had,  indeed,  felt  a  fa- 
therly tenderness  for  her,  and,  weakly  indulging  that 
sentiment,  he  had  still,  when  he  found  her  obstinate- 
ly persisting  in  her  errors,  devised  a  plan  to  shelter 
her  from  public  punishment;  and,  in  pursuance  of 
it,  he  had  taken  advantage  of  the  opportunity  afford- 
ed him  by  his  visit  to  Thomas  Morton,  to  propose  to 
Magawisca  that,  in  case  she  should  obtain  her  liber- 
ty from  the  clemency  of  her  judges,  she  should  un- 
dertake to  convey  Rosa  to  a  convent  in  Montreal,  of 
the  order  to  which  she  had  been,  in  her  childhood, 
attached. 

He  meant  to  plead  guilty,  as  he  thought  he  could 
well  afford  to  do,  if  he  was  exculpated  on  the  other 
points,  to  all  the  sin  of  acquiescence  in  Rosa's  de- 
votion to  an  unholy  and  proscribed  religion ;  and  to 
the  crucifix  Magawisca  had  produced,  and  which 
he  feared  would  prove  a  "  confirmation  strong"  to 
any  jealousies  the  governor  might  still  harbour 
against  him,  he  meant  to  answer  that  he  had  taken 
it  from  Rosa  to  explain  to  Magawisca  that  she  was 
of  the  Romish  religion. 

With  this  plausible  tale — not  the  best  that  could 
have  been  devised,  perhaps,  by  one  accustomed  to  all 
the  sinuosities  of  the  human  mind  and  human  affairs, 
but  the  best  that  Sir  Philip  could  frame  in  his  pres- 
ent perplexity — he  bent  his  steps  towards  the  govern- 
or's, a  little  antf^pating  the  appointed  hour  in  the 
hope  of  obtaining  a  glimpse  of  Miss  Leslie,  whom  he 
had  not  seen  since  their  last  interview  at  the  island  5 


HOPE    LESLIE.  181 

and  who  was  still  the  bright  cynosure  by  which, 
through  all  the  dangers  that  beset  him,  he  trusted  to 
guide  himself  to  a  joyous  destiny. 

Never  was  he  more  unwelcome  to  her  sight  than 
when  he  opened  the  parlour  door,  and  interrupted 
the  deeply-interesting  conversation  in  which  we  left 
her  engaged.  She  coldly  bowed,  without  speaking, 
and  left  him,  without  making  any  apology,  in  the 
midst  of  his  flattering  compliments  on  the  recovery  of 
her  health. 

Sir  Philip  and  Everell  were  much  on  the  terms  of 
two  unfriendly  dogs,  who  are,  by  some  coercion,  kept 
from  doing  battle,  but  who  never  meet  without  low 
growls  and  sullen  looks,  that  intimate  their  deadly 
enmity.  Everell  paced  the  room  twice  or  thrice,  then 
snatched  up  his  hat,  left  the  house,  and  sauntered  up 
the  street. 

No  sooner  had  he  disappeared  than  Jennet  emer- 
ged from  her  seclusion,  her  hands  uplifted  and  her 
eyes  upturned.  "  Oh,  Sir  Philip  !  Sir  Philip  !"  she 
said,  as  soon  as  she  could  get  her  voice,  a  delay  never 
long  with  Jennet,  "  truly  is  the  heart  deceitful,  and 
the  lips  too.  Oh !  who  would  have  thought  it  ? 
such  a  daring,  presumptuous,  and  secret  sin,  too ! 
Where  is  the  governor  ?  He  must  know  it.  But  f'''^^, 
Sir  Philip,  I  will  tell  you  ;  that  will  do,  as  you  anu' 
the  governor  are  one  in  counsel." 

"  Heaven  grant  we  may  be  so,"  thought  Sir  Phil- 
ip, and  he  closed  the  door  and  turned  to  Jennet,  ea- 
ger to  hear  her  communication ;  for  her  earnestness, 

Vol.  IL— Q 


182  HOPE    LESLIE. 

and,  still  more,  the  source  whence  the  intelligence 
emanated,  excited  his  curiosity. 

Jennet  drew  very  close  to  him,  and  communicated 
her  secret  in  a  whisper. 

At  first  the  listener's  face  did  not  indicate  any  par- 
ticular emotion,  but  merely  that  courteous  attention 
which  a  sagacious  man  would  naturally  lend  to  in- 
telligence which  the  relator  deemed  of  vital  impor- 
tance. Suddenly  a  light  seemed  to  flash  across 
him ;  he  started  away  from  Jennet,  stood  still  for  a 
moment  with  a  look  of  intense  thought,  then  turning 
to  his  informer,  he  said,  "  Mrs.  Jennet,  I  think  we 
had  best,  for  to-day,  confine  within  our  own  bosoms 
the  knowledge  of  this  secret.  As  you  say,  Mr.  Ev- 
erell's  is  a  presumptuous  sin  ;  but  it  will  not  be  pun- 
ished unless  it  proceeds  to  the  overt  act." 

"  Overt  act !  What  kind  of  act  is  that  ?"  inquired 
Jennet. 

Sir  Philip  explained;  and  Jennet  soon  compre- 
hended the  difference,  in  its  consequences  to  the  of- 
fender, between  a  meditated  and  an  executed  crime. 
Jennet  hesitated  for  a  few  moments  ;  she  had  a  sort 
of  attachment  to  the  family  she  had  long  served, 
much  like  that  of  an  old  cat  for  its  accustomed 
br^'ints ;  but  towards  Everell  she  had  a  feeling  of 
uuqualified  hostility.  From  his  boyhood  he  had 
been  rebellious  against  her  petty  domiciliary  tyranny, 
and  had  never  manifested  the  slightest  deference  for 
her  canting  pretensions.  Still  she  was  loath  in  any 
way  to  be  accessory  to  an  act  that  would  involve  the 
family  with  which  she  was  herself  identified  in  any 


HOPE    LESLIE.  183 

disgrace  or  distress.  Sir  Philip  divined  the  cause  of 
her  hesitation,  and,  impatient  for  her  decision,  he  es- 
sayed to  resolve  her  doubts :  "  Of  course,  Mrs.  Jen- 
net," he  said,  "  you  are  aware  that  any  penalty  Mr. 
Everell  Fletcher  would  incur  will  not  be  of  a  nature 
to  touch  life  or  limb." 

"  Ay,  that's  what  I  wanted  to  know ;  and  that 
being  the  case,  it  appears  to  me  plain  duty  to  let  him 
bake  as  he  has  brewed.  Faithful  are  the  wounds 
of  a  friend.  Sir  Philip ;  and  this  may  prove  a  timely 
rebuke  to  his  youth,  and  to  this  quicksilver,  fearnaught 
Hope  Leslie.  But  you  will  take  care  to  have  your 
hand  come  in  in  time ;  for  if  there  should  be  any  miss 
in  the  matter,  it  would  prove  a  heavy  weight  to  our 
consciences." 

"  Oh,  certainly,  certainly,"  said  Sir  Philip,  with 
undisguised  exultation  :  "  I  shall,  you  know,  com- 
mand the  springs,  and  can  touch  them  at  pleasure. 
Now,  Mrs.  Jennet,  will  you  favour  me  with  pen  and 
ink  ?  and  do  me  still  another  favour"— and  he  took 
a  guinea  from  his  purse — "  expend  this  trifle  in  some 
book  for  your  private  edification  ;  I  hear  much  of  a 
famous  one  just  brought  from  England,  entitled 
'  Food  for  Saints  and  Fire  for  Sinners.'  " 

"Many  thanks,  Sir  Philip,"  replied  Jennet,  gra- 
ciously accepting  the  gift ;  "  such  savoury  treatises 
are  as  much  wanted  among  us  just  now,  as  rain  upon 
the  parched  earth  :  it's  but  a  sickly  and  a  moral 
,  time  with  us.  You  put  me  in  mind.  Sir  Philip,"  she 
continued,  while  she  was  collecting  the  writing  ma- 
terials, "  you  put  me  in  mind  of  Mr.  Everell's  over- 
sight ',  or,  rather,  I  may  say,  of  his  making  me  a 


184  HOPE    LESLIE. 

mark  in  that  unhandsome  way  that  I  can  never  for- 
get. When  he  came  from  England,  there  was  not, 
save  myself,  one  of  the  family — no,  nor  an  old  wom- 
an or  child  in  Springfield,  but  what  he  had  some 
keepsake  for ;  not  that  I  care  for  the  value  of  the 
thing,  as  I  told  Digby  at  his  wedding,  when  he  sa- 
luted every  woman  in  the  room  but  me  ;  but,  then, 
one  does  not  like  to  be  slighted." 

Sir  Philip,  by  this  time,  was  fortunately  bending 
over  his  paper,  and  Jennet  did  not  perceive  his  smile 
at  her  jumble  of  selfish  and  feminine  resentments ; 
and,  observing  that  he  had  at  once  become  quite  ab- 
stracted from  her,  she  withdrew,  half  satisfied  herself 
that  she  had  acted  conscientiously  in  her  conspiracy 
against  her  young  master,  and  quite  sure  that  she 
should  appear  a  pattern  of  wisdom  and  duty. 

Sir  Philip,  mentally  thanking  Heaven  that  he  had 
not  yet  encountered  Governor  Winthrop,  addressed 
a  hasty  note  to  him,  saying  that  he  had  come  to  his 
house,  true  to  his  appointment,  and  impatient  for  the 
explanation,  which,  he  might  say  without  presump- 
tion, he  was  sure  would  remove  the  displeasure  un- 
der which  he  (Sir  Philip)  was  at  this  moment  suffer- 
ing ;  but  that,  in  consequence  of  a  sudden  and  severe 
indisposition,  the  effect  of  the  distressful  agitation  he 
had  undergone,  he  found  himself  obliged  to  return 
to  his  lodgings,  and  defer  their  interview  till  the  next 
day ;  till  then,  he  humbly  hoped  the  governor  would 
suspend  his  judgment.  He  then  directed  the  note 
and  left  it  on  the  table,  and  passed  the  threshold  of 
the  Winthrop  mansion,  as  he  beheved  and  hoped, 
for  the  last  time. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  185 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  This  murderous  shaft  that's  shot 
Hath  not  yet  lighted  ;  and  our  safest  way 
Is  to  avoid  the  aim.     Therefore  to  horse, 
And  let  us  not  be  dainty  of  leave-taking." 

Macbeth. 

The  Greeks  and  Romans  had  their  lucky  and  un- 
lucky days ;  and,  whatever  name  we  give  to  the  al- 
ternations of  life,  we  believe  that  the  experience  of 
every  family  and  individual  will  attest  the  clustering 
of  joys  or  woes  at  marked  periods.  The  day  of 
Magawisca's  trial  was  eventful,  and  long  remembered 
in  the  annals  of  the  Fletcher  family.  Indeed,  every 
one  in  any  way  associated  with  them  seems  to  have 
participated  in  the  influences  of  their  ruling  star. 
Each  member  of  Governor  Winthrop's  household 
appeared  to  be  moving  in  a  w^orld  of  his  own,  and 
to  be  utterly  absorbed  in  his  own  projects  and  hopes. 

Miss  Downing  was  for  a  long  time  closeted  wath 
her  uncle  and  aunt ;  then  a  great  bustle  ensued,  and 
emissaries  went  to  and  fro  from  Madam  Winthrop's 
apartment.  Madam  Winthrop  herself  forgot  her 
usual  stateliness  and  dignified  composure,  and  hur- 
ried from  one  apartment  to  another  with  quick  foot- 
steps and  a  disturbed  countenance.  The  governor 
was  heard  pacing  up  and  down  his  study,  in  earnest 
conversation  wath  the  elder  Fletcher.  Everell  had 
Q2 


186  HOPE    LESLIE. 

gone  outj  leaving  directions  with  a  servant  tosay  to 
hi«  father,  or  any  one  who  should  inquire  for  hira, 
that  he  should  not  return  till  the  next  day.  Hope 
Leslie  resisted  all  her  aunt's  efforts  to  interest  her  in 
a  string  of  pearls  w^hich  she  intended  for  a  wedding 
gift  for  Esther ;  "  but,"  Mrs.  Grafton  said,  wreathing 
them  into  Hope's  hair,  "  her  heart  misgave  her,  they 
looked  so  much  prettier  peeping  out  from  among 
Hope's  wavy  locks  than  they  would  on  Esther's 
sleek  hair."  The  agitation  of  Hope's  spirits  was 
manifest,  but  (we  grieve  to  unveil  her  infirmities) 
that,  in  her,  excited  no  more  attention  than  a  change 
of  weather  in  an  April  day.  She  read  one  moment 
— worked  the  next — and  the  next  was  devoting 
herself  w^ith  earnest  affection  to  the  amusement  of 
her  pining  sister;  then  she  would  suddenly  break 
off  from  her,  and  take  a  few  turns  in  the  garden  :  in 
short,  confusion  had  suddenly  intruded  within  the 
dominion  of  order,  and  usurped  the  government  of 
all  his  subjects. 

In  the  evening,  the  surface  of  affairs,  at  least,  bore 
a  more  tranquil  aspect.  The  family  all  assembled 
in  the  parlour  as  usual,  excepting  Miss  Leslie  and 
Cradock,  who  had  retired  to  the  study  to  look  over 
a  translation  from  the  Italian,  which  Hope  just  recol- 
lected her  tutor  had  never  revised. 

Faith  Leslie  sat  on  a  cushion  beside  the  door,  in 
a  state  of  vacancy  and  listlessness,  into  which  she 
seemed  to  have  hopelessly  sunk  after  the  first  violent 
emotions  that  succeeded  her  return.  The  ladies  were 
plying  their  needles  at  the  table :  Miss  Downing, 


HOPE    LESLIE.  187 

pale  as  a  statue,  moved  her  hand  mechanically,  and 
Mrs.  Grafton  had  just  remarked  that  she  had  seen 
her  put  her  needle  twelve  times  in  the  same  place, 
when,  fortunately  for  her,  any  farther  notice  of  her 
abstraction  was  averted  by  a  rap  at  the  outer  door, 
and  a  servant  admitted  a  stranger,  who,  without 
heeding  a  request  that  he  would  remain  in  the  por- 
tico till  the  governor  should  be  summoned,  advanced 
to  the  parlour  door.  He  sent  a  keen,  scrutinizing 
glance  around  the  room,  and  on  every  individual  in 
it ;  and  then,  fixing  his  eye  on  the  governor,  he  bent 
his  head  low,  with  an  expression  of  deferential  sup- 
phcation. 

His  appearance  was  that  of  extreme  wretchedness, 
and,  as  all  w^ho  saw  him  thought,  indicated  a  ship- 
wrecked sailor.  His  face  and  figure  were  youthful, 
and  his  eye  bright,  but  his  skin  was  of  a  sickly,  ash- 
en hue.  He  had  on  his  head  a  sailor's  woollen  cap, 
drawn  down  to  liis  eyes,  in  part,  as  it  seemed,  to  de- 
fend a  wound  he  had  received  on  his  temple,  and 
about  which,  and  to  the  rim  of  the  cap  which  cov- 
ered it,  there  adhered  clotted  blood.  His  dress  was 
an  overcoat  of  coarse  frieze  cloth,  much  torn  and 
weather-beaten,  and  strapped  around  the  waist  with 
a  leathern  girdle ;  his  throat  was  covered  with  a  cot- 
ton handkerchief,  knotted  in  sailor  fashion,  and  his 
legs  and  feet  were  bare. 

To  the  governor's  inquiry  of  "  Who  are  you, 
friend  ?"  and  "  what  do  you  want  ?"  he  replied  in  an 
unknown  language,  and  with  a  low^,  rapid  enuncia- 
tion.    At  the  first  sound  of  his  voice  Faith  Leslie 


188  HOPE    LESLIE. 

sprang  to  her  feet,  but  instantly  sunk  back  again  on 
the  cushion,  and  apparently  returned  to  her  former 
abstraction. 

Governor  Winthrop  eyed  the  stranger  narrowly. 
"  I  think,  Brother  Fletcher,"  he  said,  "  this  man  has 
the  Italian  lineaments ;  perhaps  Master  Cradock  may 
understand  his  language,  as  he  is  well  versed  in  all 
the  dialects  of  the  kingdoms  of  Italy.  Robin,"  he 
added,  "  bid  Master  Cradock  come  hither." 

"  Master  Cradock  has  gone  out,  sir,  an  please 
you,  some  minutes  since,  wdth  Miss  Leslie." 

"  Gone  out — with  Miss  Leslie  I     Whither  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  sir.  The  young  lady  bid  me  say 
she  had  gone  to  a  friend's,  and  should  not  return  till 
late.  She  begged  Mrs.  Jennet  might  be  in  waiting 
for  her." 

"  This  is  somewhat  unseasonable,"  said  the  gov- 
ernor, looking  at  his  watch  ;  "  it  is  now  almost  nine ; 
but  I  believe,"  he  added,  in  kind  consideration  of 
Mr.  Fletcher's  feelings,  "  w^e  may  trust  your  wild- 
wood  bird  ;  her  flights  are  somewhat  devious,  but 
her  instincts  are  safer  than  I  once  thought  them." 

"Trust  her!  yes,  indeed,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Graf- 
ton, catching  the  word  that  implied  distrust.  "  But 
I  wonder,"  she  added,  going  to  the  window  and 
looking  anxiously  abroad,  "  that  she  should  venture 
out  this  dark  night,  with  nobody  but  that  blind  bee- 
tle of  a  Cradock  to  attend  her ;  however,  I  suppose 
she  is  safe  if  she  but  keep  on  the  mainland,  as  I 
think  you  say  the  wolves  come  no  more  over  the 
neck." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  189 

"  They  certainly  will  not  come  anywhere  within 
the  bounds  that  our  lamb  is  likely  to  stray,"  said  Mr. 
Fletcher. 

The  governor's  care  again  recurred  to  the  mendi- 
cant stranger,  who  now  signified,  by  intelligible  ges- 
tures, that  he  both  wanted  food  and  sleep.  Every 
apartment  in  the  governor's  house  was  occupied ;  but 
it  w^as  a  rule  with  him  that  admitted  of  no  excep- 
tion, that  his  shelter  should  never  be  denied  to  the 
w^anderer,  nor  his  charities  to  the  poor ;  and,  accord- 
ingly, after  some  consultation  w^ith  the  executive 
department  of  his  domestic  government,  a  flock-bed 
w^as  ordered  to  be  spread  on  the  kitchen  floor,  and  a 
meal  provided,  on  which  the  stranger  did  extraordi- 
nary execution. 

When  the  result  of  these  charitable  deliberations 
w^ere  signified  to  him,  he  expressed  his  gratitude  by 
the  most  animated  gestures,  and  seeming  involunta- 
rily to  recur  to  the  natural  organ  of  communication, 
he  uttered,  in  his  low  and  rapid  manner,  several  sen- 
tences, w^hich  appeared,  from  the  direction  of  his  eye 
and  his  repeated  bows,  to  be  addressed  to  his  bene- 
factor. 

"  Enough,  enough,"  said  the  governor,  interpret- 
ing his  words  by  a  wave  of  his  hand,  which  signified 
to  the  mendicant  that  he  was  to  follow  Robin  to  the 
kitchen.  There  we  must  leave  him  to  achieve,  in 
due  time,  an  object  involving  most  momentous  con- 
sequences, while  we  follow  on  the  trail  of  our  hero- 
ine, whose  excursive  habits  have  so  often  compelled 
us  to  deviate  from  the  straight  line  of  narration. 


190  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Hope  had  retired  to  the  study  with  Master  Cra- 
dock,  where  she  dehghted  her  tutor  with  her  seem- 
ingly profound  attention  to  his  criticisms  on  her  Ital- 
ian author.  "  You  see.  Miss  Hope  Leslie,"  he  said, 
intent  on  illustrating  a  difficult  passage,  "  the  point 
here  lies  in  this,  that  Orlando  hesitates  whether  to 
go  to  the  rescue  of  Beatrice." 

"  Ah,  stop  there.  Master  Cradock ;  you  speak  an 
admonition  to  me.  You  have  yourself  told  me,  the 
Romans  believed  that  words  spoken  by  those  igno- 
rant of  their  affairs,  but  applicable  to  them,  were 
good  or  bad  omens." 

"  True,  true ;  j'ou  do  honour  your  tutor  beyond 
his  deserts,  in  treasuring  these  little  classical  notices, 
that  it  hath  been  my  rare  privilege  to  plant  in  your 
mind.  But  how  were  my  words  an  admonition  to 
you.  Miss  Hope  Leslie  ?" 

"  By  reminding  me  of  a  duty  to  a  friend  who  sadly 
needs  my  help — and  thine  too,  my  good  tutor." 

"  My  help  !  your  friend  !  It  shall  be  as  freely 
granted  as  Jonathan's  was  to  David,  or  Orpheus's  to 
Eurydice." 

"The  task  to  be  done,"  said  Hope,  w^hile  she 
could  not  forbear  laughing  at  Cradock's  comparing 
himself  to  the  master  of  music,  "  is  not  very  unlike 
that  of  Orpheus.  But  we  have  no  time  to  lose  :  put 
on  your  cloak.  Master  Cradock,  while  I  tell  Robin 
what  to  say  if  we  are  inquired  for." 

"My  cloak!  you  forget  we  are  in  the  summer 
solstice;  and  the  evening  is  somewhat  over  sultry, 
so  that  even  now,  with  my  common  habiliments,  I 
am  in  a  drip." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  191 

"  So  much  the  more  need  to  guard  against  the 
evening  air,"  said  Hope,  who  had  her  own  secret 
and  urgent  reasons  for  insisting  on  the  cloak ;  "  put 
on  the  cloak.  Master  Cradock,  and  move  quick  and 
softly,  for  I  w^ould  pass  out  without  notice  from  the 
family." 

A  Moslem  w^ould  as  soon  have  thought  of  resisting 
fate,  as  Cradock  of  opposing  a  w-ish  of  his  young 
mistress,  which  only  involved  his  own  comfort ;  so 
he  cloaked  himself,  while  Hope  flew  to  the  kitchen, 
gave  her  orders,  and  threw  on  her  hat,  which  she 
had  taken  care  to  have  at  hand.  They  then  passed 
through  the  hall  and  beyond  the  court  without  at- 
tracting observation. 

Cradock  was  so  absorbed  in  the  extraordinary 
happiness  of  being  selected  as  the  confidential  aid 
and  companion  of  his  favourite,  that  he  would  have 
followed  her  to  the  world's  end,  without  question, 
if  she  had  not  herself  turned  the  direction  of  his 
thoughts. 

"  It  is  like  yourself,"  she  said,  '•  my  good  tutor,  to 
obey  the  call  of  humanity,  without  inquiring  in  whose 
behalf  it  comes  ',  and  I  think  you  will  not  be  the  less 
prorp^t  to  follow  the  dictates  of  your  own  heart  and 
my  wishes,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  am  leading  you  to 
poorMagawisca's  prison." 

"  Ah  T-the  Indian  woman,  concerning  w^hom  I  have 
heard  much  colloquy.  I  would,  in  truth,  be  fain  to 
see  her,  and  speak  to  her  such  comfortable  words 
and  counsels  as  may,  with  a  blessing,  touch  the 
heathen's  heart.     You  have  doubtless,  Miss  Hope, 


192  HOPE.  LESLIE. 

provided  yourself  with  a  passport  from  the  govern- 
or," he  added,  for  ahnost  the  first  time  in  his  Ufa 
looking  at  the  business  part  of  a  transaction. 

"  Master  Cradock,  I  did  not  esteem  that  essen- 
tial." 

"  Oh !  but  it  is ;  and  if  you  will  abide  here  one 
moment,  I  will  hasten  back  and  procure  it,"  he  said, 
in  his  simplicity  never  suspecting  that  Miss  Leslie's 
omission  was  anything  other  than  an  oversight. 

"  Nay,  nay,  Master  Cradock,"  she  said,  laying  her 
hand  on  his  arm,  "  it  is  too  late  now  :  my  heart  is 
set  on  this  visit  to  the  unhappy  prisoner ;  and  if  you 
were  to  go  back,  Madam  Winthrop,  or  my  aunt,  or 
somebody  else,  might  deem  the  hour  unseasonable. 
Leave  it  all  to  me :  I  will  manage  with  Barnaby 
Tuttle ;  and  when  we  return,  be  assured  I  will  take 
all  the  blame,  if  there  is  any,  on  myself." 

"  No,  that  you  shall  not ;  it  shall  fall  on  my  gray 
head,  where  there  should  be  wisdom,  and  not  on  your 
youth,  which  lacketh  discretion — and  lacketh  naught 
else,"  he  murmured  to  himself;  and,  without  any 
farther  hesitation,  he  acquiesced  in  proceeding  on- 
ward. 

They  arrived  without  hinderance  at  the  jail,  and 
knocked  a  long  time  for  admittance  at  that  part  of 
the  tenement  occupied  by  our  friend  Barnaby,  with- 
out his  appearing.  Hope  became  impatient ;  and, 
bidding  Cradock  follow  her,  she  passed  through  the 
passage,  and  opened  the  door  of  Barnaby's  apart- 
ment. 

He  was  engaged  in  what  he  still  called  "  his  fam- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  193 

ily  exercise ;"  though,  by  the  death  of  his  wife  and 
the  marriage  of  his  only  child,  he  was  the  sole  rem- 
nant of  that  corporation.  On  seeing  our  heroine,  he 
gave  her  a  famiUar  nod  of  recognition,  and,  by  an 
equally  intelligible  sign,  he  demonstrated  his  desire 
that  she  should  seat  herself,  and  join  in  his  devotions, 
which  he  was  just  closing,  by  singing  a  psalm,  ver- 
sified by  himself;  for  honest  Barnaby,  after  his  own 
humble  fashion,  was  a  disciple  of  the  tuneful  Nine. 
Hope  assented ;  and,  with  the  best  grace  she  could 
command,  accompanied  him  through  twelve  stanzas 
of  long  and  very  uncommon  metre,  which  he  obli- 
gingly gave  out  line  by  line.  When  this,  on  Hope's 
part,  extempore  worship  w^as  finished,  "  Welcome 
here,  and  many  thanks.  Miss  Leslie,"  said  Barnaby ; 
"  it's  a  good  sign  to  find  a  prepared  heart  and  a  ready 
voice.  Service  to  you,  Master  Cradock;  you  are 
not  gifted  in  psalmody,  I  see." 

"  Not  in  the  outward  manifestation ;  but  the  in- 
ward feeling  is,  I  trust,  vouchsafed  to  me.  My  heart 
hath  taken  part  in  the  fag  end  of  your  feast." 

"  A-  pretty  similitude,  truly.  Master  Cradock,  and 
a  token  for  good  is  it  when  the  appetite  is  always 
sharp-set  for  such  a  feast.  But  come,  Miss  Leslie," 
raking  open  the  embers,  "  draw^  up  your  chair,  and 
warm  your  dear  little  feet.  She  looks  pale  yet  af- 
ter her  sickness — ha.  Master  Cradock  ?  You  should 
not  have  come  forth  in  the  evening  air — not  but 
what  I  am  right  glad  to  see  you ;  the  sight  of  you 
always  brings  to  mind  your  kindness  to  the  dead  and 
the  living.    You  have  not  been  here,  I  think,  since 

Vol.  1L— R 


194  HOPE    LESLIE. 

the  night  of  Ruthy's  wedding  :  that  puts  me  in  mind 
that  I  got  a  letter  from  Ruthy  to-day.  I'll  read  it 
to  you,"  he  continued,  taking  off  his  spectacles  and 
giving  them  a  preparatory  wipe ;  "  Ruthy  is  quite 
handy  with  her  pen — takes  after  the  Tuttles  in  that : 
you  know.  Miss  Leslie,  my  great-grandfather  wrote 
a  book." 

"  Yes,"  said  Hope,  interrupting  him,  and  rising, 
"  and  I  trust  his  great-grandson  will  live  to  write 
another." 

"  Sit  down.  Miss  Leslie ;  it  may  be  those  of  as 
humble  a  degree  as  Barnaby  Tuttle  have  wTitten 
books ;  and  writing  runs  in  families,  like  the  king's 
evil" — and  Barnaby  laughed  at  his  own  witty  il- 
lustration— "  but  sit  down.  Miss  Leslie ;  I  must  read 
Ruthy 's  letter  to  you." 

"  Not  now,  good  Barnaby ;  let  me  take  it  home 
with  me ;  it  is  getting  late,  and  I  have  a  favour  to 
ask  of  you." 

"  A  favour  to  ask  of  me  !  ask  anything,  my  pretty 
mistress,  that's  in  the  power  of  Barnaby  Tuttle  to 
grant.  Ah  !  Mr.  Cradock,  there's  nobody  knows 
what  I  owe  her — what  she  did  for  my  wife  when  she 
laid  on  her  deathbed — and  all  for  nothing  but  our 
thanks  and  prayers." 

"  Oh,  you  forget  that  your  wife  had  once  been  a 
servant  to  my  dear  mother." 

"Yes,  yes,  but  only  in  the  common  way,  and 
there's  few  that  would  have  thought  of  it  again. 
It's  not  my  way  to  speak  with  flattering  lips,  but 
truly,  Miss  Hope  Leslie,  you  seem  to  be  one  of  those 


HOPE    LESLIE.  195 

that  do  not  to  others  that  it  may  be  done  to  you 
again." 

"  Oh,  my  good  friend  Barnaby,  you  speak  this 
praise  in  the  wrong  time,  for  I  have  even  now  come, 
as  I  told  you,  to  beg  a  favour  on  the  score  of  old 
friendship." 

"  It  shall  be  done  !  it  shall  be  done !"  said  Barna- 
by, snapping  his  fingers,  his  most  energetic  gesture  ; 
"  be  it  what  it  may,  it  shall  be  done." 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  so  very  much,  but  only,  Barnaby,  I 
wish  it  quickly  done,  that  we  may  return.  I  want 
you  to  conduct  Master  Cradock  and  myself  to  your 
Indian  prisoner,  and  leave  us  in  her  cell  for  a  short 
time." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  Certainly — certainly ;"  and,  anxious 
to  make  up  for  the  smallness  of  the  service  by  the 
avidity  of  his  compliance,  Barnaby  prepared  his  lamp 
with  unwonted  activity.  "  Now  we  are  ready,"  he 
said,  "  just  show  me  your  permit,  and  we'll  go  with- 
out delay." 

Hope  had  flattered  herself  that  her  old  friend,  in 
his  eagerness  to  serve  her,  would  dispense  with  the 
ceremony  of  a  passport  from  the  governor.  Agita- 
ted by  this  new  and  alarming  obstacle,  she  command- 
ed her  voice  with  difficulty  to  reply  in  her  usual  tone. 
"  How  could  I  think  it  necessary  to  bring  a  permit 
to  you,  who  know  me  so  well,  Barnaby  ?" 

*'  Not  necessary  !  that  was  an  odd  thought  for  such 
an  all-witted.  damsel  as  thou  art,  Miss  Hope  Leslie. 
Not  necessary,  indeed  !  Why,  I  could  not  let  in  the 
king,  if  he  were  to  come  from  his  throne )  the  king ! 


196  HOPE    LESLIE. 

truly,  he  is  but  as  his  subjects  now ;  but  if  the  first 
Parliament  man  were  to  come  here,  I  could  not  let 
him  in  without  a  permit  from  the  governor." 

Hope  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  biting  her 
lips  with  vexation  and  disappointment.  Every  mo- 
ment's delay  hazarded  the  final  success  of  her  pro- 
ject. Poor  Cradock  now  interposed  with  one  of  his 
awkward  movements,  which,  though  made  wdth  the 
best  will  in  the  world,  was  sure  to  overturn  the  bur- 
den he  essayed  to  bear.  "  Be  comforted.  Miss  Hope 
Leslie,"  he  said ;  "  I  am  not  so  nimble  as  I  was  in 
years  past,  but  it  is  scarce  fifteen  minutes'  walk  to 
the  governor's,  and  I  will  hasten  thither  and  get  the 
needful  paper." 

"  Ay,  ay,  so  do,"  said  Barnaby  j  "  that  will  set  all 
right." 

"  No,"  cried  Hope  ;  "  no.  Master  Cradock,  you 
shall  not  go.  If  Barnaby  cannot  render  me  this  lit- 
tle kindness,  there  is  an  end  of  it.  I  will  give  it  up. 
I  shall  never  ask  another  favour  of  you,  Barnaby ;" 
and  she  sat  down,  anxious  and  disappointed,  and 
burst  into  tears.  Honest  Barnaby  could  not  stand 
this.  To  see  one  so  much  his  superior — One  who  had 
been  an  angel  of  mercy  to  his  habitation — one  who 
had  a  right  to  command  him  in  all  permitted  ser- 
vice, thrown  into  such  deep  distress  by  his  refusal  of 
a  favour,  which,  after  all,  there  could  be  no  harm  in 
granting,  he  could  not  endure. 

"  Well,  well,"  he  said,  after  hesitating  and  jin- 
gling his  keys  for  a  moment, "  dry  up  your  tears,  my 
young  lady  5  a  ^  wayward  child,'  they  say, '  will  have 


HOPE    LESLIE.  197 

its  way ;'  and  they  say,  too,  *  men's  hearts  melt  in 
women's  tears,'  and  I  believe  it ;  come,  come  along, 
you  shall  have  your  way." 

Hope  now  passed  to  the  extreme  of  joy  and  grat- 
itude. "  Bless  you — bless  you,  Barnaby,"  she  said, 
"  I  was  sure  you  would  not  be  cross  to  me." 

"  Lord  help  us,  child,  no — there's  no  denying  you ; 
but  I  do  wish  you  was  as  thoughtful  as  Miss  Esther 
Downing ;  she  never  came  without  a  permit — a  good 
thing  is  consideration  ;  you  have  made  me  to  do  that 
which  I  trust  not  to  do  again — step  aside  from  known 
duties ;  but  we're  erring  creatures." 

Hope  had  the  grace  to  pause  one  instant,  and  to 
meditate  a  retreat  before  she  had  involved  others  in 
sinning  against  their  consciences;  but  she  had  the 
end  to  be  attained  so  much  at  heart,  and  the  faults 
to  be  committed  by  her  agents  were  of  so  light  a 
dye,  that  the  scale  of  her  inclinations  soon  prepon- 
derated, and  she  proceeded.  When  they  came  to 
the  door  of  the  dungeon,  "  Hark  to  her,"  said  Bar- 
naby ;  "  is  not  that  a  voice  for  psalmody  ?"  Mag- 
awisca  was  singing  in  her  own  language,  in  the  most 
thrilling  and  plaintive  tones.  Hope  thought  there 
could  not  be  darkness  or  imprisonment  to  such  a  spirit. 
"  It  is,  in  truth,  Barnaby,"  she  replied,  "  a  voice  fit 
to  sing  the  praises  of  God."  Barnaby  now  turned 
the  bolts  and  opened  the  door,  and  as  the  feeble  ray 
of  his  lamp  fell  athwart  the  dungeon's  gloom,  Hope 
perceived  Magawisca  sitting  on  her  flock  bed,  with 
a  blanket  wrapped  around  her.  On  hearing  their 
voices  she  had  ceased  her  singing,  but  she  gave  no 
R  2 


198  HOPE    LESLIE. 

other  sign  of  her  consciousness  of  the  presence  of  her 
visiters. 

Miss  Leslie  took  the  lamp  from  Barnaby.  "  How 
much  time  will  you  allow  us?"  she  asked. 

"  Ten  minutes." 

"  Ten  minutes !  oh,  more  than  that,  I  pray  you, 
good  Barnaby." 

"  Not  one  second  more,"  replied  Barnaby,  resolute 
not  to  concede  another  inch  of  ground.  "There 
may  be  question  of  this  matter — you  must  consider, 
my  dear  young  lady." 

"  I  will — always  in  future,  I  will,  Barnaby ;  now 
you  may  leave  me." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  understand,"  said  Barnaby,  giving  a 
knowing  nod.  "  You  mind  the  Scripture  rule  about 
the  right  and  the  left  hand — some  creature  comfort 
to  be  given  to  the  prisoner.  I  marvel  that  ye  bring 
Master  Cradock  with  you ;  but,  in  truth,  he  hath  no 
more  eye  nor  ear  than  the  wall." 

"  Marvel  not  at  anything,  Barnaby,  but  leave  me, 
and  let  my  ten  minutes  be  as  long  as  the  last  ten 
minutes  before  dinner." 

Hope,  quick  as  she  was  in  invention  and  action, 
felt  that  she  had  a  very  brief  space  to  effect  her  pur- 
posed arrangements ;  and  while  she  hesitated  as  to 
the  best  mode  of  beginning,  Cradock,  who  nothing 
doubted  he  had  been  brought  hither  as  a  ghostly 
teacher,  asked  whether  "  he  should  commence  with 
prayer  or  exhortation." 

"  Neither — neither.  Master  Cradock ;  do  just  as  I 
bid  you  ;  you  will  not  hesitate  to  help  a  fellow-crea- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  199 

ture  out  of  deep,  unmerited  distress  ?"  This  \vas  ut- 
tered in  a  tone  of  half  inquiry  and  half  assertion, 
that,  enforced  by  Hope's  earnest,  imploring  manner, 
quickened  Cradock's  slow  apprehension.  She  per- 
ceived the  light  was  dawning  on  his  mind,  and  she 
turned  from  him  to  Magawisca :  "  Magawisca,"  she 
said,  stooping  over  her,  "  rouse  yourself — trust  me — 
I  have  come  to  release  you."  She  made  no  reply 
nor  movement.  "  Oh  !  there  is  not  a  moment  to  lose. 
Magawisca,  listen  to  me — speak  to  me." 

"  Thou  didst  once  deceive  and  betray  me,  Hope 
Leslie,"  she  replied,  without  raising  her  head. 

Hope  concisely  explained  the  secret  machina- 
tions of  Sir  Philip,  by  which  she  had  been  made  the 
unconscious  and  innocent  means  of  betraying  her. 
"  Then,  Hope  Leslie,"  she  exclaimed,  rising  from  her 
abject  seat  and  throwing  off  her  blanket,  "  thy  soul 
is  unstained,  and  Everell  Fletcher's  truth  will  not  be 
linked  to  falsehood." 

Hope  would  have  explained  that  her  destiny  and 
Everell's  were  not  to  be  interwoven,  but  she  had 
neither  time  nor  heart  for  it.  "  You  are  too  gener- 
ous, Magaw^isca,"  she  said,  in  a  tremulous  tone,  "  to 
think  of  any  one  but  yourself,  now — w^e  have  not  a 
breath  to  lose — take  this  riband,"  and  she  untied  her 
sash  ;  ''  bind  your  hair  tight  with  it,  so  that  you  can 
draw  Master  Cradock's  wig  over  your  head ;  you 
must  exchange  dresses  wdth  him." 

"  Nay,  Hope  Leslie,  I  cannot  leave  another  in  my 
net." 

"  You  must  not  hesitate,  Magawisca — you  will  be 


200  HOPE    LESLIE. 

freed — he  runs  no  risk,  will  suffer  no  harm — Ever- 
ell  awaits  you — speed,  I  pray  you."  She  turned  to 
Cradock  :  "  Now,  my  good  tutor,"  she  said,  in  her 
most  persuasive  tones,  "  lend  me  your  aid,  quickly. 
Magawisca  must  have  the  loan  of  your  wig,  hat, 
boots,  and  cloak;  and  you  must  sit  down  there  on 
her  bed,  and  let  me  wrap  you  in  her  blanket." 

Cradock  retreated  to  the  wall,  planted  himself 
against  it,  shut  his  eyes,  and  covered  his  ears  with 
his  hands,  that  temptation  might,  at  every  entrance, 
be  quite  shut  out.  "  Oh  !  I  scruple — I  scruple,"  he 
articulated,  in  a  voice  of  the  deepest  distress. 

"  Scruple  not,  dear  Master  Cradock,"  replied  Hope, 
pulhng  down  one  of  his  hands,  and  holding  it  be- 
tween both  hers  j  "  no  harm  can — no  harm  shall  be- 
fall you." 

"  Think  not,  sweet  Miss  Hope,  it's  for  the  perish- 
ing body  I  am  thoughtful ;  for  thy  sake  I  would  bare 
my  neck  to  the  slayer ;  to  thy  least  wish  I  would 
give  the  remnant  of  my  days ;  but  I  scruple  if  it  be 
lawful  for  a  Christian  man  to  lend  this  aid  to  an  idol- 
ater." 

"  Oh  !  is  that  all  ?  We  have  no  time  to  answer 
such  scruples  now,  but  to-morrow.  Master  Cradock, 
I  will  show  you  that  you  greatly  err ;"  and,  as  she 
said  this,  she  proceeded,  without  any  farther  ceremo- 
ny, to  divest  the  old  man  of  his  wig,  which  she  care- 
fully adjusted  on  Magawisca's  head.  Both  parties 
w^ere  passive  in  her  hands,  Magawisca  not  seeming 
to  relish,  much  better  than  Cradock,  the  false  charac- 
ter she  was  assuming.     Such  was  Cradock's  habit- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  201 

ual  deference  to  his  j'oung  mistiness,  that  it  was  mor- 
ally impossible  for  him  to  make  any  physical  resist- 
ance to  her  movements;  but  neither  his  conscience 
nor  his  apprehensions  for  her  would  permit  him  to 
be  silent  when  he  felt  a  conviction  that  she  was  do- 
ing, and  he  was  suffering,  an  act  that  was  a  plain 
transgression  of  a  holy  law. 

"  Stay  thy  hand,"  he  said,  in  a  beseeching  voice, 
"  and  let  not  thy  feet  move  so  swiftly  to  destruc- 
tion." 

"  Just  raise  your  foot  while  I  draw  off  this  boot. 
Master  Cradock." 

He  mechanically  obeyed,  but  at  the  same  time 
continued  his  admonition :  "  Was  not  Jehoshaphat 
reproved  of  Micaiah  the  prophet  for  going  down  to 
thehelpof  Ahab?" 

"  Now  the  other  foot,  Master  Cradock ;  there, 
that  will  do.  Draw  them  on,  Magawisca,  right  over 
your  moccasins ;  quick,  I  beseech  you." 

"  Was  not  the  good  King  Josiah  reproved  in  the 
matter  of  Pharaoh  Necho  ?" 

"  Oh,  Magawisca !  how  shall  I  ever  make  your 
slender  shoulders  and  straight  back  look  anything 
like  Master  Cradock's  broad,  round  shoulders  ?  One 
glance  of  Barnaby's  dim  old  eyes  will  detect  you. 
Ah  !  this  will  do  ;  I  will  bind  the  pillow  on  with  the 
sheet."  While  she  was  uttering  the  device,  she  ac- 
complished it.  She  then  threw  Magawisca's  mantle 
over  her  expanded  shoulders,  and  Cradock's  cloak 
over  all ;  and,  finally,  the  wig  was  surmounted  by  the 
old  man's  steeple-crowned  hat.    "  Now,"  she  said, 


202  HOPE    LESLIE. 

almost  screaming  with  joy  at  the  transformation  so 
suddenly  effected,  "  now,  Magawisca,  all  depends  on 
yourself ;  if  you  will  but  contrive  to  screen  your 
face,  and  shuffle  a  little  in  your  gait,  all  will  go 
well." 

The  hope  of  liberty — of  deliverance  from  her  gall- 
ing imprisonment — of  escape  beyond  the  power  and 
dominion  of  her  enemies,  had  now  taken  full  posses- 
sion of  Magawisca  ;  and  the  thought  that  she  should 
owe  her  release  to  Everell  and  to  Hope,  who,  in  her 
imagination,  was  identified  with  him,  filled  her  with 
emotions  of  joy  resembling  those  a  saint  may  feel 
when  she  sees  in  vision  the  ministering  angels  sent 
to  set  her  free  from  her  earthly  prison  :  "  I  will  do 
all  thou  shalt  command  me,  Hope  Leslie ;  thou  art 
indeed  a  spirit  of  light,  and  love,  and  beauty." 

"  True,  true,  true,"  cried  Cradock,  losing,  in  the 
instincts  of  his  affection,  the  opposition  he  had  so 
valorously  maintained,  and  his  feelings  flowing  back 
into  their  accustomed  channel ;  "  thou  w^oman  in 
man's  attire,  it  is  given  to  thee  to  utter  truth,  even  as 
of  old  lying  oracles  were  wont  to  speak  words  of 
prophecy." 

Hope  had  not,  as  may  be  imagined,  stood  still  to 
listen  to  this  long  sentence,  uttered  in  her  tutor's  de- 
liberate, broken  manner,  but  in  the  mean  while  she 
had,  with  an  almost  supernatural  celerity  of  move- 
ment, arranged  everything  to  present  the  same  aspect 
as  when  Barnaby  first  opened  the  door  of  the  dun- 
geon. She  drew  Cradock  to  the  bed,  seated  him 
there,  and  wrapped  the  blanket  about  him  as  it  had 


HOPE    LESLIE.  203 

enveloped  Magawisca.  "  Oh  !  I  hear  Barnaby !" 
she  exclaimed  ;  "  dear  Master  Cradock,  sit  a  little 
straighter ;  there,  that  will  do  ;  turn  a  little  more 
sideways — you  will  not  look  so  broad  ;  there,  that's 
better." 

"  Miss  Hope  Leshe,  ye  have  perverted  the  simple- 
minded." 

"Say  not  another  word,  Master  Cradock;  pray 
do  not  breathe  so  like  a  trumpet — ah,  I  see  it  is  my 
fault."  She  readjusted  the  blanket,  which  she  had 
drawn  so  close  over  the  unresisting  creature's  face 
as  almost  to  suffocate  him.  "  Now,  Magawisca,  sit 
down  on  this  stool — your  back  to  the  door,  close  to 
Master  Cradock,  as  if  you  were  talking  with  him." 
All  was  now  arranged  to  her  mind,  and  she  spent 
the  remaining  half  instant  in  whispering  consolations 
to  Cradock :  "  Do  not  let  your  heart  fail  you,  my 
good,  kind  tutor ;  in  one  hour  you  shall  be  relieved." 
Cradock  would  have  again  explained  that  he  was 
regardless  of  any  personal  risk,  but  she  interrupted 
him  :  "  Nay,  you  need  not  speak ;  I  know  that  is  not 
your  present  care,  but  do  not  be  troubled  ;  we  are 
commanded'to  do  good  to  all ;  the  rain  falleth  on  the 
just  and  the  unjust ;  and  if  we  are  to  help  our  ene- 
my's ox  out  of  the  pit,  much  more  our  enemy.  This 
best  of  all  thy  kind  services  shall  be  requited.  I 
will  be  a  child  to  thy  old  age — hush !  there's  Bar- 
naby !" 

She  moved  a  few  steps  from  the  parties,  and  when 
the  jailer  opened  the  door,  she  appeared  to  be  await- 
ing him.    "  Just  in  season,  good  Master  Tuttle  j  my 


204  HOPE    LESLIE. 

tutor  has  nothing  more  to  say,  and  I  am  as  impatient 
to  go  as  you  are  to  have  me  gone." 

"  It  is  only  for  your  own  sake  that  I  am  impatient, 
Miss  Hope ;  let  us  make  all  haste  out."  He  took  up 
the  lamp  which  he  had  left  in  the  cell,  trimmed  it, 
and  raised  the  wick,  that  it  might  better  serve  to 
guide  them  through  the  dark  passage. 

Hope  was  alarmed  by  the  sudden  increase  of  light : 
"  Lend  me  your  lamp,  Barnaby,"  she  said,  "  to  look 
for  my  glove ;  where  can  I  have  dropped  it  ?  It 
must  be  somewhere  about  here.  I  shall  find  it  in  a 
minute,  Master  Cradock  3  you  had  best  go  on  while 
I  am  looking." 

Magawisca  obeyed  the  hint,  while  Hope,  in  her 
pretended  search,  so  skilfully  managed  the  light  that 
not  a  ray  of  it  touched  Magawisca's  face.  She  had 
passed  Barnaby:  Hope  thought  the  worst  danger 
escaped.  "  Ah,  here  it  is,"  she  said  j  and,  by  w^ay  of 
precaution,  she  added,  in  the  most  careless  tone  she 
could  assume,  "  I  will  carry  the  lamp  for  you,  Bar- 
naby." 

"  No,  no,  thank  you,  Miss  Leslie,  I  always  like  to 
carry  the  light  myself;  and,  besides,  I  must  take  a 
good  look  at  you  both  before  1  lock  the  door.  It  is 
a  rule  I  always  observe  in  such  cases,  lest  I  should 
be  left  to  '  brood  the  eggs  the  fox  has  sucked.'  It 
is  a  prudent  rule,  I  assure  you,  always  to  be  sure  you 
take  out  the  same  you  let  in.  Here,  Master  Cradock, 
turn  round,  if  you  please,  to  the  light,  just  for  form's 
sake." 

Magawisca  had  advajiced  several  steps  into  the 


HOPE    LESLIE.  205 

passage,  and  Hope's  first  impulse  was  to  scream  to 
lier  to  run ;  but  a  second  and  happier  thought  pre- 
vailed ;  and  taking  her  shawl,  which  was  hanging 
negligently  over  her  arm,  she  contrived,  in  throwing 
it  over  her  head,  to  sweep  it  across  Bamaby's  lamp 
in  such  a  way  as  to  extinguish  the  light  beyond  the 
possibility  of  recovery,  as  Barnaby  proved  by  vain- 
ly trying  to  blow  it  again  into  a  flame. 

"  Do  not  put  yourself  to  any  farther  trouble  about 
it,  Barnaby  ;  it  was  all  my  faulty  but  it  matters  not 
— you  know  the  way ;  just  give  me  your  arm,  and 
Master  Cradock  can  take  hold  of  my  shawl,  and  we 
shall  grope  through  this  passage  without  any  diffi- 
culty." 

Barnaby  arranged  himself  as  she  suggested,  and 
then,  hoping  her  sudden  action  had  broken  the  chain 
of  his  thoughts,  and  determined  he  should  not  have 
time  to  resume  it,  she  said,  "  When  you  write  to 
Ruth,  Barnaby,  be  sure  you  commend  me  kindly  to 
her  ;  and  tell  her  that  I  have  done  the  baby-linen  I 
promised  her,  and  that  I  hope  little  Barnaby  will 
prove  as  good  a  man  as  his  grandfather." 

*'  Oh,  thank  ye.  Miss  Hope  :  I  trust,  by  the  bless- 
ing of  the  Lord,  much  better ;  but  they  do  say,^' 
added  the  old  man,  with  a  natural  ancestral  compla- 
cency, "  they  do  say  he  favours  me  ;  he's  got  the 
true  Tuttle  chin,  the  little  dog  1" 

"  You  cannot  tell  yet  whether  he  is  gifted  in 
psalmody,  Barnaby  ?" 

"  La,  ^Miss  Hope,  you  must  mean  to  joke.  Why, 
little  Barnaby  is  not  five  weeks  old  till  next  Wednes- 

VoL.  IT.— S 


206  HOPE    LESLIE, 

day  morning,  half  past  three  o'clock.  But  I'm  as 
sure  he  will  take  to  psalmody  as  if  I  knew ;  there 
never  was  a  Tuttle  that  did  not." 

Our  heroine  thus  happily  succeeded  in  beguihng 
the  way  to  the  top  of  the  staircase,  where  a  passage 
diverged  to  the  outer  door,  and  there,  with  many 
thanks  arid  assurances  of  future  gratitude,  she  bade 
Barnaby  good-night;  and,  anticipating  any  obser- 
vation he  might  make  of  Cradock's  silence,  she  said, 
"  My  tutor  seems  to  have  fallen  into  one  of  his  rev- 
eries 'j  but  never  mind ;  another  time  he  will  remem- 
ber to  greet  and  thank  you." 

Barnaby  was  turning  away  from  the  door,  when 
he  recollected  that  the  sudden  extinction  of  the  can- 
dle had  prevented  his  intended  professional  inspec- 
tion. "  Miss  Hope  Leslie,"  he  cried,  "  be  so  good 
as  to  stay  one  moment,  while  I  get  a  light ;  the  night 
is  so  murky  that  I  cannot  see,  even  here,  the  linea- 
ments of  Master  Cradock's  complexion." 

"  Pshaw,  Barnaby,  for  mercy's  sake  do  not  detain 
us  now  for  such  an  idle  ceremony ;  you  see  the  linea- 
ments of  that  form,  I  think ;  we  must  have  been 
witches,  indeed,  to  have  transformed  Magawisca's 
slender  person  into  that  enormous  bulk ;  but  one 
sense  is  as  good  as  another.  Speak,  Master  Cradock," 
she  added,  relying  on  Magawisca's  discretion.  "  Oh, 
he  is  in  one  of  his  silent  fits,  and  a  stroke  of  lightning 
would  scarcely  bring  a  sound  from  him :  so  good- 
night, Barnaby,"  she  concluded,  gently  putting  him 
back  and  shutting  the  door. 

"It  is  marvellous,"  thought  Barnaby,  as  he  re- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  207 

luctantly  acquiesced  in  relinquishing  the  letter  of  his 
duty,  "  how  this  young  creature  spins  me  round,  at 
her  will,  like  a  top.  I  think  she  keeps  the  key  to  all 
hearts." 

With  this  natural  reflection  he  retired  to  rest,  with- 
out taking  the  trouble  to  return  to  the  dungeon, 
which  he  would  have  done  if  he  had  really  felt  one 
apprehension  of  the  fraud  that  had  been  there  per- 
petrated. 

At  the  instant  the  prison  door  was  closed,  Maga- 
wisca  divested  herself  of  her  hideous  disguise,  and 
proceeded  on  with  Hope  to  the  place  where  Everell 
was  awaiting  them  with  the  necessary  means  to 
transport  her  beyond  the  danger  of  pursuit.  But, 
while  our  heroine  is  hastening  onward  with  a  bound- 
ing step  and  an  exulting  heart,  a  cruel  conspiracy 
is  maturing  against  her. 


208  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

"  Sisters  !  weave  the  web  of  death  : 
Sisters  !  cease ;  the  work  is  done." 

The  Fatal  Sisters. 

The  conversation  overheard  by  the  faithless  Jen- 
net, and  communicated  with  all  its  particulars  to  Sir 
Philip  Gardiner,  was,  as  must  have  been  already 
conjectured  by  our  readers,  the  contrivance  for  Mag- 
awisca's  liberation.  It  appeared  by  her  statement 
that  Hope  and  Magawisca,  unattended,  would,  at  a 
late  hour  of  the  evening,  pass  through  a  part  of  the 
town  unfrequented  after  dark ;  that,  at  a  fixed  time, 
Everell  would  be  in  waiting  for  them  at  a  certain 
landing-place.  Before  they  reached  there.  Sir  Phil- 
ip knew  there  were  many  points  where  they  might 
be  intercepted,  without  the  possibility  of  Everell's 
coming  to  their  rescue. 

Sir  Philip  was  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  his  ow^n 
weaving ;  extrication  was  possible — nay,  he  believed 
probable;  but  there  was  a  fearful  chance  against 
him.  He  had  now  to  baffle  well-founded  suspicions ; 
to  disprove  facts ;  to  double  his  guard  over  his  as- 
sumed and  tiresome  character  ;  and,  after  all,  human 
art  could  not  secure  him  from  accidents,  which  would 
bring  in  their  train  immediate  disgrace  and  defeat. 
His  passion  for  Miss  Leslie  had  been  stimulated  by 
the  obstacles  which  opposed  it.     His  hopes  were 


HOPE    LESLIE.  209 

certainly  abated  by  her  indifference ;  but  self-love, 
and  its  minister  vanity,  are  inexhaustible  in  their  re- 
sources ;  and  Sir  Philip  trusted  for  better  success  in 
future  to  his  own  powers  and  to  feminine  weakness ; 
for  he,  hke  other  profligates,  believed  that  there  was 
no  woman,  however  pure  and  lofty  her  seeming,  but 
she  was  commanded 

"  By  such  poor  passion  as  the  maid  that  milks, 
And  does  the  meanest  chares ;" 

yet  this  process  of  winning  the  prize  was  slow,  and 
the  result,  alas  !  uncertain. 

Jennet's  information  suggested  a  master-stroke  by 
which  he  could  at  once  achieve  his  object — a  single 
stroke  by  which  he  could  carry  the  citadel  he  had 
so  long  and  painfully  besieged.  If  an  evil  spirit  had 
been  abroad  on  a  corrupting  mission,  he  could  not 
have  selected  a  subject  more  eager  to  grasp  tempta- 
tion than  Sir  Philip,  nor  a  fitter  agent  than  Jennet, 
nor  have  contrived  a  more  infernal  plot  against  an 
"  innocent  and  aidless  lady"  than  that  which  we 
must  now  disclose. 

Chaddock  (whose  crew  had  occasioned  such  dan- 
ger and  alarm  to  Miss  Leslie)  was  still  riding  in  the 
bay  with  his  vessel.  Sir  Philip  had  formerly  some 
acquaintance  with  this  man.  He  knew  him  to  be  a 
desperate  fellow ;  that  he  had  once  been  in  confed- 
eracy w^th  the  bucaniers  of  Tortuga — the  self-styled 
"  Brothers  of  the  Coast ;"  and  he  believed  that  he 
might  be  persuaded  to  enter  upon  any  new  and  law- 
less enterprise. 

Accordingly,  from  Governor  Winthrop's  he  re- 
S  2 


210  HOPE    LESLIE. 

paired  to  Chaddock's  vessel,  and  presented  such  mo- 
tives to  him,  and  offered  such  rewards,  as  induced 
the  wretch  to  enter  heartily  into  his  designs.  For- 
tunately for  their  purposes,  the  vessel  was  ready  for 
sea,  and  they  decided  to  commence  their  voyage 
that  very  night.  All  Miss  Leslie's  paternal  connex- 
ions were  on  the  royal  side  ;  her  fortune  was  still  in 
their  hands,  and  subject  to  their  control.  "  If  the 
lady's  reluctance  to  accept  his  hand  was  not  subdued 
before  the  end  of  the  voyage"  (a  chance  scarcely 
worth  consideration),  Sir  Philip  said,  "  she  must  then 
submit  fo  stern  necessity,  which  even  a  woman's  will 
could  not  oppose."  After  their  arrival  in  England, 
he  meant  to  abandon  himself  to  the  disposal  of  For- 
tune j  but  he  promised  Chaddock  that  he,  with  cer- 
tain other  cavaliers,  whom  he  asserted  had  already 
meditated  such  an  enterprise,  would,  with  the  rem- 
nant of  their  fortunes,  embark  with  him,  and  enrol 
themselves  among  the  adventurers  of  Tortuga. 

It  may  be  remembered  by  our  readers,  that  early 
in  our  history,  some  glimmerings  of  a  plot  of  this  na- 
ture appear,  from  a  letter  of  Sir  Philip's,  even  then 
to  have  daw^ned  on  his  mind ;  but  other  purposes 
had  intervened  and  put  it  off  till  now,  when  it  was 
ripened  by  sudden  and  fit  opportunity. 

The  detail  of  operations  being  all  settled  by  these 
worthy  confederates.  Sir  Philip,  at  nightfall,  went 
once  more  to  the  town,  secretly  withdrew  his  bag- 
gage from  his  lodgings,  and  bidding  Rosa,  who,  in 
sorrow  and  despair,  mechanically  obeyed,  to  follow^, 
he  returned  to  the  vessel,  humming,  as  he  took  his 


HOPE    LESLIE.  211 

last  look  at  the  scene  where  he  had  played  so  un- 
worthy a  part, 

"  Kind  Boston,  adieu  !  part  we  must,  though  'tis  pity, 
But  I'm  made  for  mankind— all  the  world  is  my  city." 

Sir  Philip,  in  his  arrangements  w^ith  Chaddock, 
excused  himself  from  being  one  of  the  party  who 
were  to  effect  the  abduction  of  Miss  Leslie.  Per- 
haps the  external  habits  of  a  gentleman,  and,  it  may 
be,  some  httle  remnant  of  human  kindness  (for  we 
would  not  believe  that  man  can  become  quite  a  fiend), 
rendered  him  reluctant  to  take  a  personal  part  in  the 
cruel  outrage  he  had  planned  and  prepared.  Chad- 
dock  himself  commanded  the  enterprise,  and  was  to 
be  accompanied  by  four  of  the  most  daring  of  his 
crew. 

The  night  was  moonless,  and  not  quite  clear. 
"  It  is  becoming  dark — extremely  dark,  captain," 
Sir  Philip  said,  in  giving  his  last  instructions ;  "  but 
it  is  impossible  you  should  make  a  mistake.  Miss 
Leslie's  companion,  as  I  told  you,  may  be  disguised 
— she  may  wear  a  man's  or  woman's  apparel — but 
you  have  an  infallible  guide  in  her  height ;  she  is  at 
least  half  a  head  taller  than  Miss  Leslie.  It  may  be 
well,  when  you  get  to  the  wharf,  to  divide  your  par- 
ty, agreeing  on  the  signal  of  a  whistle.  But  I  rely 
on  your  skill  and  discretion." 

"  You  may  rely  on  it,"  replied  the  hardy  despera- 
do. "  He  who  has  boarded  Spanish  galleons,  storm- 
ed castles,  pillaged  cities,  violated  churches,  and  bro- 
ken open  monasteries,  may  be  intrusted  with  the  cap- 
ture of  a  single  defenceless  girl." 


212  HOPE    LESLIE.  • 

Sir  Philip  recoiled  from  trusting  his  prey  in  the 
clutches  of  this  tiger,  but  there  was  no  alternative. 
"  Have  a  care,  Chaddock,"  he  said,  "  that  she  is 
treated  with  all  due  and  possible  gentleness." 

"  Ay,  ay,  Sir  Philip — kill,  but  not  hurt !"  A  smile 
of  derision  accompanied  his  words. 

"  You  have  pledged  me  the  honour  of  a  gentle- 
man," said  Sir  Philip,  in  an  alarmed  tone. 

"  Ay  I  the  only  bond  of  free  souls.  Remember, 
Sir  Philip,"  he  added,  for  he  perceived  the  suspicion 
the  knight  would  fain  have  hidden  in  his  inmost  soul, 
"  remember  our  motto  :  '  Trusted,  we  are  true ;  sus- 
pected, we  betray.'  I  have  pledged  my  honour; 
better  than  parchment  and  seal — if  you  confide  in 
it." 

"  Oh,  I  do — entirely — implicitly ;  I  have  not  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt,  my  dear  fellew." 

Chaddock  turned  away,  laughing  contemptuously 
at  the  ineffectual  hypocrisy  of  Sir  Philip,  and  order- 
ed the  men  w'ho  were  to  be  left  in  charge  of  the  ves- 
sel to  have  everything  in  readiness  to  sail  at  the  mo- 
ment of  his  return.  "  And  w^hither  bound,  captain  V 
demanded  one  of  his  sailors. 

"  To  hell !"  was  his  ominous  reply.  This  answer, 
seemingly  accidental,  was  long  remembered  and  re- 
peated, as  a  proof  that  the  unhappy  wretch  was  con- 
strained, thus  involuntarily,  to  pronounce  his  ap- 
proaching doom. 

Once  more,  before  he  left  the  vessel.  Sir  Philip 
addressed  him  :  "  Be  in  no  haste  to  return,"  he  said ; 
"  the  lady  was  not  to  leave  Governor  Winthrop's  be- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  213 

fore  half  past  eight ;  she  may  meet  with  unforeseen 
detentions ;  you  will  reach  the  dock  a  few  minutes 
before  nine.  Take  your  stations  as  I  have  directed, 
and  Fortune  cannot  thwart  us  if  you  are  patient ; 
-svait  till  ten — eleven — twelve — or  one,  if  need  be. 
Again,  I  entreat  there  maybe  no  unnecessary  haste ; 
I  shall  have  no  apprehensions ;  I  repose  on  your 
fidelity." 

"  D — n  him  !"  muttered  Chaddock,  as  he  turned 
away, "  he  reposes  on  my  fidelity — while  he  has  my 
vessel  in  pledge !" 

Sir  Philip  remained  standing  by  the  side  of  the  ves- 
sel, listening  to  the  quick  strokes  of  the  oars,  till  the 
sounds  died  away  in  the  distance;  then  he  spoke 
aloud  and  exultingly :  "  Shine  out,  my  good  star,  and 
guide  this  prize  to  me !" 

"  Oh  !  rather,"  exclaimed  Rosa,  who  stood  unob- 
served beside  him, "  rather,  merciful  Heaven,  let  thy 
lightnings  blast  her  or  thy  waves  swallow  her.  Oh 
God !"  she  continued,  sinking  on  her  knees  and  clasp- 
ing her  hands,  "  shield  the  innocent ;  save  her  from 
the  hand  of  the  destroyer  !" 

Sir  Philip  recoiled  ;  it  seemed  to  him  there  was 
something  prophetic  in  the  piercing  tones  of  the  un- 
happy girl,  and  for  a  moment  he  felt  as  if  her  prayer 
must  penetrate  to  Heaven  ;  but  soon  collecting  cour- 
age, "  Hush  that  mockery,  Rosa !"  he  said  j  "  your 
words  are  scorpions  to  me." 

Rosa  remained  for  a  few  moments  on  her  knees, 
but  without  again  giving  voice  to  her  feelings ;  then 
rising,  and  sobbing  as  she  spoke,  "  I  thought,"  she 


214  HOPE    LESLIE. 

said,  "  no  prayer  of  mine  would  ever  go  upward 
again.  I  have  tried  to  pray,  and  the  words  fell  back 
like  stones  upon  my  heart ;  but  now  I  pray  for  the 
innocent,  and  they  part  from  me  winged  for  Heaven." 
She  folded  her  arms,  looked  upward,  and  continued 
to  speak,  as  if  it  were  the  involuntary  utterance  of 
her  thoughts  :  "  How  wildly  the  stars  shoot  their 
beams  through  the  parting  clouds !  I  have  some- 
times thought  that  good  spirits  come  down  on  those 
bright  rays  to  do  their  messages  of  love.  They  may 
even  now  be  on  their  way  to  guard  a  pure  and  help- 
less sister  :  God  speed  them  !" 

Sir  Philip's  superstitious  fears  were  awakened : 
"  What  do  you  mean,  Rosa  ?"  he  exclaimed;  "  what  I 
are  3^ou  talking  of  stars  ?  I  see  nothing  but  this 
cursed  hazy  atmosphere,  that  hangs  like  a  pall  over 
the  water.     Stars,  indeed  !  are  you  mad,  Rosa  ?" 

Rosa  replied,  with  a  touching  simplicity,  as  if  the 
inquiry  were  made  in  good  faith,  "  Yes,  by  times  I 
think  I  am  mad.  Thoughts  rush  so  fast,  so  wildly 
through  my  poor  head — and  then,  again,  all  is  va- 
cancy. Yes,"  she  continued,  as  if  meditating  her 
case,  "  I  think  my  brain  is  touched ;  but  this — this, 
Sir  Philip,  is  not  madness.  Do  you  know  that  all 
the  good  have  their  ministering  spirits  ?  Why,  I 
remember  reading  in  the  '  Legends  of  the  Saints,' 
which  our  good  abbess  gave  me,  of  a  chain,  invisi- 
ble to  mortal  senses,  that  encompassed  all  the  faith- 
ful, from  the  bright  spirits  that  wait  around  the  throne 
of  Heaven  to  the  lowliest  that  walk  upon  the  earth. 
It  is  of  such  exquisite  temper  that  naught  but  sin  can 


HOPE    LESLIE.  215 

harm  it ;  but,  if  that  but  touch  it,  it  falls  apart  like 
rust-eaten  metal." 

"  Away  with  these  fantastic  legends,  inventions  of 
hypocritical  priests  and  tiresome  old  women.  You 
must  curb  these  foolish  vagaries  of  your  imagination, 
Rosa.  I  have  present  and  urgent  work  for  you  3  do 
but  this  good  service  for  me,  and  I  will  love  you  again, 
and  make  you  as  happy  as  you  were  in  your  bright- 
est days." 

"  You  make  me  happy,  Sir  Philip  !  Alas !  alas ! 
there  is  no  happiness  without  innocence  ;  if  that  be 
once  lost,  like  the  guilty  Egyptian's  pearl  you  told 
me  of,  melted  in  the  bowl  of  pleasure,  happiness 
cannot  be  restored." 

"  As  you  please,  girl ;  if  you  will  not  be  happy, 
you  may  play  the  penitent  Magdalen  the  rest  of  your 
life.  You  shall  select  your  own  convent,  and  tell  your 
beads,  and  say  your  prayers,  and  be  as  demure  and 
solemn  as  any  seeming  saint  of  them  all.  I  will  give 
you  a  penance  to  begin  with ;  nay,  I  am  serious : 
hear  me.  In  spite  of  your  prayers,  and  visions,  and 
silly  fancies,  Miss  Leslie  must  soon  be  here ;  the  snare 
is  too  well  prepared  to  be  escaped.  After  this  one 
violence,  to  w^hich  she  and  cruel  fate  have  driven 
me,  I  will  be  a  true  knight,  as  humble  and  worship- 
ful as  any  hero  of  chivalry." 

"  But  she  does  not  now  love  you,  and  do  you  not 
fear  she  will  hate  you  for  this  outrage  ?" 

"  Ay  ;  but  there  is  a  potent  alchymy  at  work  for 
us  in  the  hearts  of  you  women,  that  turns  hate  to 
love.     You  shall  yet  hear  her  say,  like  the  lady  of 


216  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Sir  Gawaine,  *  Oh  !  how  it  is  befallen  me,  that  now 
I  love  him  whom  I  before  most  hated  of  all  men  liv- 
ing.' But  you  must  aid  me,  Rosa ;  this  proud  queen 
must  have  her  maid  of  honour." 

"  And  I  must  be  the  poor  slave  to  do  her  bidding  !" 
said  Rosa,  impatiently  interrupting  him,  and  all  oth- 
er feelings  giving  way  to  the  rising  of  womanly 
pride. 

"  Nay,  not  so,  Rosa,"  replied  Sir  Philip ;  and  he 
added,  in  a  voice  which  he  hoped  might  sooth  her 
petulance,  "render  to  her  all  maidenly  service;  for 
a  little  while  do  the  tasks  of  the  bond-woman,  and 
you  shall  yet  have  her  wages ;  nay,  start  not — ^you 
remember  the  good  patriarch's  affections  manifestly 
leaned  to  the  side  of  Hagar." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  and  I  remember,  too,  what  her  fate  was 
— the  fate  of  all  who  follow  in  her  footsteps — to  be 
cast  out  to  wander  forth  in  a  desert,  where  there  is 
not  one  sign  of  God's  love  left  to  them."  She  burst 
into  tears,  and  added,  "  I  would  give  my  poor  life, 
and  a  thousand  more,  if  I  had  them,  to  save  Hope 
Leslie,  but  I  will  never  do  her  menial  service." 

Sir  Philip  continued  to  offer  arguments  and  en- 
treaties, but  nothing  that  he  said  had  the  least  effect 
on  Rosa ;  he  could  not  extort  a  promise  from  her, 
nor  perceive  the  slightest  indication  of  conformity  to 
his  wishes.  But  trusting  that  when  the  time  came 
she  would  of  necessity  submit  to  his  authority,  he  re- 
linquished his  solicitations,  and,  quitting  her  side, 
paced  the  deck  with  hurried,  impatient  footsteps. 

There  is  no  solitude  to  the  good  or  bad.     Nature 


HOPE    LESLIE.  217 

has  her  ministers  that  correspond  v/ith  the  world 
within  the  breast  of  man.  The  words  "  my  king- 
dom is  within  you,"  are  worth  all  the  metaphysical 
discoveries  ever  made  by  unassisted  human  wisdom. 
If  all  is  right  in  that  "kingdom,"  beautiful  forms 
and  harmonious  voices  surround  us,  discoursing  mu- 
sic ;  but  if  the  mind  is  filled  with  guilty  passions, 
recollections  of  sin,  and  purposes  of  evil,  the  minis- 
tering angels  of  Nature  are  converted  into  demons, 
w^hose  "  monstrous  rout  are  heard  to  howl  like  stable 
wolves."  Man  cannot  live  in  tranquil  disobedience 
to  the  law  of  virtue,  inscribed  on  his  soul  by  the  fin- 
ger of  God.  "  Our  torments"  cannot  "  become  our 
elements."  To  Sir  Philip's  disordered  imagination, 
the  heavy  mist  seemed  like  an  infolding  shroud; 
there  was  a  voice  of  sullen  menace  in  the  dashing 
of  the  waves  against  the  vessel ;  the  hooting  of  the 
night-bird  was  ominous ;  and  Rosa's  low  sobs,  and 
the  horrid  oaths  of  the  misruled  crew,  rung  in  his 
ears  like  evil  prophecies. 

Time  wore  away  heavily  enough  till  ten,  the  ear- 
liest moment  he  had  calculated  on  the  return  of  the 
boat,  but  after  that  it  appeared  to  stand  stock-still. 
He  ordered  the  signal  lights  attached  to  the  mast  to 
be  doubled  ;  he  strained  his  eyes  in  the  vain  at- 
tempt to  descry  an  approaching  object,  and  then 
cm'sed  the  fog  that  hemmed  in  his  sight.  Suddenly 
a  fresh  breeze  came  off  the  shore,  the  fog  dispersed, 
and  he  could  discern  the  few  lights  that  still  ghm- 
mered  from  the  habitations  of  the  town,  but  no  boat 
was  seen  or  heard.     "  What  folly,"  he  repeated  to 

Vol.  II.— T 


218  HOPE    LESLIE. 

himself  a  hundred  times,  ^'  to  be  thus  impatient ;  they 
certainly  have  not  failed  in  their  object,  or  relinquish- 
ed it,  for  in  that  case  they  would  have  been  here  ', 
it  is  scarcely  time  to  expect  them  yet ;"  but  the  sug- 
gestions of  reason  could  not  calm  the  perturbations 
of  impatience.  For  another  hour  he  continued  to 
stride  the  deck,  approaching  the  light  at  every  turn 
to  look  at  his  watch.  The  sailors  now  began  to  fret 
at  the  delay :  "  Everything  was  ready,"  they  said ; 
"  good  luck  had  sent  them  a  fair  breeze,  and  the  tide 
had  just  turned  in  their  favour."  And  in  Sir  Philip's 
favour  too,  it  appeared  ;  for  at  this  moment  the  long- 
ed-for boat  was  both  heard  and  seen  rapidly  nearing 
the  vessel.  He  gazed  towards  it  as  if  it  contained  for 
him  a  sentence  of  life  or  death  ;  and  life  it  was,  for 
be  soon  perceived  a  female  form  wrapped  in  Chad- 
dock's  watch-cloak. 

The  boat  came  to  the  side  of  the  vessel.  "  Has 
the  scoundrel  dared  to  put  his  arm  around  Hope 
Leslie  ?"  thought  the  knight,  as  he  saw  the  captain's 
arm  encircling  the  unfortunate  girl ;  but  a  second 
reflection  told  him  that  this,  which  seemed  even  to 
him  profanity,  was  but  a  necessary  precaution.  "  He 
dared  not  trust  her ;  she  would  have  leaped  into 
the  waves  rather  than  have  come  to  me — ungracious 
girl !" 

"  What  hath  kept  you  ?"  called  out  one  of  the 
sailors. 

"  The  devil  and  Antonio,"  replied  the  captain. 
"  We  left  him  with  the  boat,  and,  w^hile  w^e  were 
grapphng  the  prize,  he  ran  away.     I  had  to  be 


HOPE    LESLIE.  219 

cliains  and  fetters  to  the  prisoner :  we  had  not  hands 
to  man  our  oai^,  so  we  waited  for  the  fellow ;  but 
he  came  not,  and  has,  doubtless,  ere  this,  given  the 
alarm.  Weigh  your  anchor  and  spread  your  sails, 
boys;  starting  with  this  wind  and  tide,  w^e'll  give 
them  a  devil  of  a  chase,  and  bootless  at  last." 

While  this  was  saying,  the  unhappy  victim  was 
lifted  up  the  side  of  the  vessel,  and  received  in  Sir 
Philip's  arms.  She  threw  back  the  hood  that  had 
been  drawn  over  her  head,  and  attempted  to  speak, 
but  was  prevented  by  her  kerchief,  which  the  ruffians 
had  bound  over  her  face  to  prevent  the  emission  of 
any  sound.  Sir  Philip  w^as  shocked  at  the  violence 
and  indignity  she  had  suffered.  "  Did  I  not  order 
you,  Chaddock,"  he  said,  "  to  treat  the  lady  with  all 
possible  respect  ?" 

"  D — n  your  orders  !"  replied  the  captain  ;  "  w^as 
I  to  let  her  scream  like  forty  sea-mews,  and  raise  the 
town  upon  us  ?" 

"  A  thousand — thousand  pardons  !"  whispered  Sir 
Philip,  in  a  low,  imploring  voice  ;  and  then  aloud  to 
Chaddock,  "  But  after  you  left  the  town,  captain, 
you  surely  should  have  paid  more  respect  to  my  ear- 
nest and  repeated  injunctions." 

"  D — n  your  injunctions  !  John  Chaddock  is  yet 
master  of  his  vessel,  and  boat  too.  I  tell  you,  w^hen 
the  fishing-smacks  hailed  us,  that,  even  with  that 
close-reefed  sail,  she  made  a  noise  like  a  creaking 
mast  in  a  gale." 

"Oh!  forgive — forgive,"  whispered  Sir  Philip, 
"  this  horrible,  necessary  outrage.     Lean  on  me  j  I 


220  HOPE    LESLIE. 

will  conduct  you  away  from  these  wretches  ;  a  room 
is  prepared  for  you ;  Rosa  shall  attend  you ;  you 
are  queen  here;  you  command  us  all.  Forgive — 
forgive,  and  fear  nothing.  I  will  not  remove  your 
screen  till  you  are  beyond  the  lawless  gaze  of  these 
fellows.  Here,  Roslin  !"  he  called,  for  he  still  kept 
up  the  farce  of  Rosa's  disguise  in  the  presence  of  the 
ship's  company,  "  here,  Roslin  !  take  the  lamp,  and 
follow  me !" 

Rosa  obeyed,  her  bosom  heaving  with  struggling 
emotions,  and  her  hand  trembling  so  that  she  could 
scarcely  hold  the  lamp.  "  Bear  the  light  up,  and 
more  steadily,  Roslin.  Nay,  my  beloved,  adored 
mistress,  do  not  falter  ;  hasten  forward ;  in  one  min- 
ute more  we  shall  be  below,  in  your  own  domain, 
where  you  may  admit  or  exclude  me  at  pleasure. 
Do  not  struggle  thus ;  you  have  driven  me  to  this 
violence ;  you  must  forgive  the  madness  you  have 
caused.     I  am  your  slave  for  life." 

They  had  just  passed  down  the  steps  that  served 
as  a  companion-way,  when  Sir  Philip  observed,  on 
his  right  hand,  an  uncovered  barrel  of  gunpowder. 
It  had  been  left  in  this  exposed  situation  by  a  care- 
less fellow,  intrusted  with  the  preparation  of  the 
fire-arms  for  the  expedition  to  the  town.  "  Have  a 
care,"  cried  Sir  Philip  to  Rosa  ,*  "  stay  where  you 
are:  do  not  approach  that  gunpowder  with  the 
light."  He  heard  a  footstep  above.  "  Here,  friend," 
he  called,  "  lend  us  a  hand ;  come  down  and  cover 
this  powder.  We  cannot  discreetly  move  an  inch." 
The  footsteps  ceased,  but  there  was  no  reply  to  the 


HOPE    LESLIE.  221 

call.  "  I  cannot  leave  Miss  Leslie,"  continued  Sir 
Philip ;  "  she  leans  on  me  as  if  she  were  fainting. 
Set  down  your  lamp,  Rosa,  and  come  yourself  and 
cover  the  barrel." 

Rosa  did  not  set  down  the  lamp,  but  moved  for- 
ward one  or  two  steps  w4th  it  in  her  hand,  and  then 
paused.  She  seemed  revolving  some  dreadful  pur- 
pose in  her  mind.  Her  eyes  glanced  wildly  from  Sir 
Philip  to  his  helpless  victim  ;  then  she  groaned  aloud, 
and  pressed  her  hand  upon  her  head  as  if  it  were 
bursting. 

Sir  Philip  did  not  observe  her ;  he  was  intent  upon 
his  companion.  "  She  is  certainly  fainting,"  he  said ; 
"it  is  the  close  air  and  this  cursed  handkerchief!" 
He  attempted  to  remove  it,  but  the  knot  by  which  it 
was  tied  baffled  his  skill,  and  he  again  shouted  to 
Rosa,  "  Why  do  you  not  obey  me  ?  Miss  Leslie  is 
suffocating :  set  down  the  lamp,  I  say,  and  call  as- 
sistance. Damnation  !"  he  screamed,  "  what  means 
the  girl  ?"  as  Rosa  made  one  desperate  leap  forward, 
and  shrieking,  "  It  cannot  be  worse  for  any  of  us !" 
threw  the  lamp  into  the  barrel. 

The  explosion  was  instantaneous  :  the  hapless  girl 
— her  guilty  destroyer — his  victim — the  crew — the 
vessel,  rent  to  fragments,  were  hurled  into  the  air, 
and  soon  ingulfed  in  the  waves. 
T  2 


222  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  And  how  soon  to- the  bower  she  loved,  they  say, 
Return'd  the  maid  that  was  borne  away 
From  Maquon,  the  fond  and  the  brave." 

Bryant. 

After  Miss  Leslie's  escape  from  Oneco  on  the 
island,  he  remained  for  some  time  unconscious  of 
her  departure,  and  entirely  absorbed  in  his  efforts  to 
quicken  the  energy  of  reviving  life  in  his  father; 
and  when  he  discovered  that  his  prisoner  had  left 
him,  he  still  deemed  her  as  certainly  within  his  pow- 
er on  the  sea-girt  island  as  if  she  had  been  enclosed 
by  the  walls  of  a  prison.  He  felt  that  his  father's 
life  depended  on  his  obtaining  an  asylum  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  he  determined  to  abandon  his  plan  of 
going  to  Narragansett,  and  instead,  to  cross  the  bay 
to  Moscutusett,  the  residence  of  the  Son  and  succes- 
sor of  Chicetabot,  an  avowed  ally  of  the  English, 
but  really,  in  common  with  most  of  the  powerful 
chiefs,  their  secret  enemy. 

If,  availing  himself  of  the  sheltering  twilight  of 
the  morning,  he  could  convey  his  father  safely  to  the 
wigwam  of  his  friend,  Oneco  believed  he  might  se- 
curely remain  there  for  the  present.  In  the  mean 
time,  he  shouM  himself  be  at  liberty  to  contrive  and 
attempt  the  recovery  of  his  wife.  The  instrumental- 
ity of  Hope  Leslie  might  be  important  to  effect  this 


HOPE    LESLIE.  223 

object,  and  she  also  might  remain  in  safe  custody 
with  the  Indian  chief. 

Thus  having  digested  his  plans,  before  the  morn- 
ing dawned,  and  by  the  sufficient  light  of  the  moon, 
he  went  in  quest  of  his  prisoner,  but  was  destined, 
as  our  readers  know,  to  be  disappointed. 

He  encountered  Chaddock's  crew  much  in  the  sit- 
uation in  which  they  were  first  discovered  by  Miss 
Leslie ;  for,  after  having  been  baffled  in  their  pursuit 
of  her,  they  returned  and  recomposed  themselves  to 
await  the  light  of  day,  when  they  might  give  a  sig- 
nal to  some  boat  to  take  them  off  the  island. 

Oneco,  apprehending  that,  in  the  prosecution  of 
his  search  over  the  island,  he  might  meet  with  some 
straggler  from  this  gang,  very  prudently  disguised 
himself  in  certain  of  the  cast-off  garments  belonging 
to  the  men,  which  would  enable  him  to  escape,  at 
least,  immediate  detection.  This  disguise,  though 
useless  then,  proved  afterward  of  important  service 
to  him. 

Compelled  by  the  approach  of  day  to  abandon 
his  search,  he  returned  to  his  canoe,  placed  his  father 
in  it,  and  rowed  him  to  Sachem's  Head,  where  he 
was  kindly  received  and  cherished,  though  with  the 
utmost  secrecy,  for  the  Indians  had  long  ere  this 
been  taught,  by  painful  experience,  to  guard  against 
the  most  dispiriting  of  all  dangers — a  danger  to 
which  the  weak,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  power- 
ful and  comparatively  rich  foe,  are  always  exposed 
— the  treachery  of  their  ow^n  people. 

The  chief  of  Moscutusett  obtained,  from  day  to 


224  HOPE    LESLIE. 

clay,  intelligence  of  whatever  transpired  in  Boston  ; 
and  in  this  way  Mononotto  was  apprized  of  the  im- 
prisonment and  probable  fate  of  Magawisca.  This 
w^as  the  last  drop  in  his  cup  of  bitterness ;  worse, 
far  worse,  than  to  have  borne  on  his  body  the  seve- 
rest tortures  ever  devised  by  human  cruelty.  Mag- 
awisca had  obtained  an  ascendancy  over  her  father's 
mind  by  her  extraordinary  gifts  and  superior  knowl- 
edge. He  loved  her  as  his  child  ;  he  venerated  her 
as  an  inspired  being.  He  might  have  endured  to 
have  had  her  cut  oif  by  the  chances  of  war ;  but  to 
have  her  arraigned  before  the  tribunal  of  his  enemies, 
as  amenable  to  their  laws  ;  to  have  her  die  by  the 
hands  of  the  executioner,  as  one  of  their  own  felon 
subjects,  pierced  his  national  pride  as  well  as  his  af- 
fection, and  he  resigned  himself  to  overwhelming 
grief  Oneco  sorrowed  for  himself  and  sorrowed  for 
the  old  man's  tears,  but  he  felt  nothing  very  deeply 
but  the  loss  of  his  "  white  bird." 

All  his  ingenuity  was  employed  to  devise  the  means 
of  her  escape.  After  having  painted  his  face,  hands, 
and  legs,  so  as  effectually  to  conceal  his  tawny  hue, 
he  appeared  a  foreign  sailor  in  Madam  Winthrop's 
parlour.  All  succeeded  better  than  his  most  sanguine 
expectations.  He  contrived  to  give  every  necessary 
hint  to  Faith  Leslie  ;  and  so  happily  veiled  his  lan- 
guage by  his  indistinct  and  rapid  utterance,  that 
Governor  Winthrop,  familiar  as  he  was  with  the 
sound  of  the  Indian  dialects,  did  not  suspect  him. 
The  family  retired  immediately  after  their  evening 
devotions :  he  laid  himself  down  on  the  bed  that 


HOPE    LESLIE.  225 

had  been  hospitably  spread  for  him,  and  soon  feign- 
ed himself  asleep.  He  watched  the  servants  make 
their  last  preparations  for  bed  :  the  lights  were  ex- 
tinguished and  the  fire  raked  up,  though  enough  still 
glimmered  through  the  ashes  to  afford  him  a  compe- 
tent light  when  he  should  need  it.  The  menials 
withdrew :  their  footsteps  had  hardly  ceased  to  vi- 
brate on  the  ear,  when  his  wife,  impatient  of  any 
farther  delay,  stole  from  her  aunt's  side,  threw  on 
her  dress,  and  with  the  light,  bounding  tread  of  a 
fawn,  passed  down  the  stairs,  through  the  hall,  and 
into  the  kitchen.  Oneco  started  up,  and  in  a  trans- 
port of  joy  would  have  locked  her  in  his  arms,  when 
Jennet  appeared.  She,  like  some  other  disagreea- 
ble people,  seemed  to  be  gifted  w^ith  ubiquity,  and 
always  to  be  present  w-here  happiness  was  to  be  in- 
terrupted or  mischief  to  be  done. 

She  stood  for  an  instant,  her  hands  uplifted  in  si- 
lent amazement,  hesitating  whether  to  alarm  the  fam- 
ily with  her  outcries,  or  more  quietly  to  give  them 
notice  of  the  character  of  their  guest.  Oneco  put  a 
sudden  end  to  her  deliberations.  He  first  darted  to 
the  door  and  closed  it ;  then  drew  a  knife  from  his 
bosom,  and,  pointing  it  at  Jennet's  heart,  he  told 
her,  in  very  bad  English,  but  plainly  interpreted  by 
his  action,  that  if  she  moved  or  uttered  a  sound,  his 
knife  should  taste  her  life-blood. 

Jennet  saw  determination  in  his  aspect,  and  she 
stood  as  still  as  if  she  were  paralyzed  or  transfixed, 
while  Oneco  proceeded  to  tell  her  that,  to  make  all 
sure,  she  should  go  with  him  to  his  canoe.     He  bade 


226  HOPE    LESLIE. 

her  calm  her  fears,  for  then  he  would  release  her, 
provided  that,  in  the  mean  time,  she  made  no  effort, 
by  voice  or  movement,  to  release  herself. 

There  was  no  alternative,  but  she  did  beg  to  be  al- 
lowed to  go  to  her  room  to  get  her  bonnet  and  cloak. 
Oneco  smiled  deridingly  at  the  weak  artifice  by  w^hich 
she  hoped  to  elude  him  ;  but,  deigning  no  other  reply 
to  it,  he  caught  a  cloak  which  hung  over  a  chair, 
threw  it  over  her,  and,  without  any  farther  delay, 
compelled  her  to  follow  him. 

Oneco  took  good  care  to  avoid  the  danger,  slight 
though  it  was,  of  encountering  any  passengers,  by 
directing  his  way  through  an  unfrequented  part  of 
the  town.  Impatience  to  be  beyond  the  bounds  of 
danger,  and  the  joy  of  escape  and  reunion,  seemed 
to  lend  wings  to  Jennet's  companions,  while  she  fol- 
lowed breathless  and  panting,  enraged  at  her  com- 
pelled attendance,  and  almost  bursting  with  spite,  to 
which  she  could  not  give  its  natural  vent  by  its  cus- 
tomary outlet  the  tongue,  the  safety-valve  of  many 
a  vexed  spirit. 

They  had  arrived  very  near  to  the  cove  where 
Oneco  had  moored  his  canoe.  He  good-naturedly 
pointed  towards  it,  and  told  Jennet  that  there  she 
should  be  released.  But  the  hope  of  release  by  a 
mode  much  more  satisfactory  to  her  feelings,  inas- 
much as  it  would  involve  her  companions  in  danger, 
had  dawned  on  Jennet.  She  had  just  perceived 
some  men  (how  many  she  could  not  tell,  for  the 
night  was  then  dark),  who  were,  unobserved  by 
Oneco,  stealing  towards  them.     She  withdrew  a  few 


HOPE    LESLIE.  227 

inches,  as  far  as  she  dared  from  his  side,  lest  he 
should  execute  sudden  vengeance  \Yith  the  weapon 
which  he  still  held  in  his  hand.  Her  conjectures 
Avere  now  converted  to  certainty,  and  she  already 
mentally  exulted  in  the  retaliation  she  should  inflict 
on  her  companions  ;  but,  alas  ! 

"  Esser  vicino  al  lido 
Molti  fra  naufragar ;" 

or,  to  express  the  same  truth  by  our  vernacular  ad- 
age, "  There's  many  a  slip  between  the  cup  and  the 
lip."  The  men  did  approach,  even  to  her  side ;  and 
without  listening  to  her  protestations  of  who  she 
was  and  who  her  companions  were — without  even 
hearing  them,  they  seized  on  her,  and,  suffering  the 
other  parties  to  escape  without  any  annoyance, 
bound  her  hood  and  handkerchief  over  her  head  and 
face,  and,  as  our  readers  have  already  anticipated, 
conveyed  her  to  that  awful  destiny  which  she  had 
herself  indirectly  prepared. 

It  may  excite  some  surprise  that  Chaddock,  fore- 
warned, as  he  had  been,  that  the  lady  whom  he  was 
to  intercept  would  have  no  male  attendant,  should 
not  have  hesitated  when  he  saw  Oneco.  But  that 
may  be  explained  by  Oneco  wearing  the  dress  of  the 
ship's  crew,  and  the  natural  conclusion,  on  Chad- 
dock's  part,  that  Antonio,  whom  he  had  left  in  the 
boat,  had  come  on  shore,  and  probably  just  joined 
these  females.  Chaddock's  only  care  was  to  select 
the  shortest  of  the  two  women,  and,  obscure  as  the 
night  was,  their  relative  height  was  apparent. 


228  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  Basta  cosi  t'intendo 
Gia  ti  spiegasti  a  pieno  : 
E  mi  diresti  meno 
Se  mi  dicessi  piQ." 

Metastasio. 

We  trust  we  have  not  exhausted  the  patience  of 
our  readers,  and  that  they  will  vouchsafe  to  go  forth 
with  us  once  more,  on  the  eventful  evening  on  which 
we  have  fallen,  to  watch  the  safe  conduct  of  the  re- 
leased prisoner. 

The  fugitives  had  not  proceeded  many  yards  from 
the  jail  when  Everell  joined  them.  This  was  the 
first  occasion  on  which  Magawisca  and  Everell  had 
had  an  opportunity  freely  to  interchange  their  feel- 
ings. Everell's  tongue  faltered  when  he  would 
have  expressed  what  he  had  felt  for  her :  his  manly, 
generous  nature  disdained  vulgar  professions,  and  he 
feared  that  his  inetfectual  efforts  in  her  behalf  had 
left  him  without  any  other  testimony  of  the  constan- 
cy of  his  friendship  and  the  warmth  of  his  gratitude. 

Magawisca  comprehended  his  feelings,  and  antici- 
pated their  expression.  She  related  the  scene  with 
Sir  Philip  in  the  prison,  and  dwelt  long  on  her  knowl- 
edge of  the  attempt  Everell  then  made  to  rescue 
her.  "  That  bad  man,"  she  said,  "made  me, for  the 
first  time,  lament  for  ray  lost  limb.     He  darkened 


HOPE   LESLIE,  229 

the  clouds  that  were  gathering  over  my  soul ;  and 
for  a  little  while,  Everell,  I  did  deem  thee  like  most 
of  thy  race,  on  whom  kindness  falls  like  drops  of 
rain  on  the  lake,  dimpling  its  surface  for  a  moment, 
but  leaving  no  mark  there ;  but  when  I  found  thou 
wert  true,"  she  continued,  in  a  swelling,  exulting 
voice,  "  when  I  heard  thee  in  my  prison,  and  saw 
thee  on  my  trial,  I  again  rejoiced  that  I  had  sacri- 
ficed my  precious  limb  for  thee ;  that  I  had  worn 
away  the  days  and  nights  in  the  solitudes  of  the 
forest,  musing  on  the  memory  of  thee,  and  count- 
ing the  moons  till  the  Great  Spirit  shall  bid  us  to 
those  regions  where  there  will  be  no  more  gulfs  be- 
tween us,  and  I  may  hail  thee  as  my  brother." 

"  And  why  not  now,  Magawisca,  regard  me  as 
your  brother  ?  True,  neither  time  nor  distance  can 
sever  the  bonds  by  which  our  souls  are  united  ;  but 
why  not  enjoy  this  friendship  while  youth,  and  as 
long  as  Hfe  lasts  7  Nay,  hear  me,  Magawisca ;  the 
present  difference  of  the  English  with  the  Indians  is 
but  a  vapour,  that  has,  even  now,  nearly  passed 
away.  Go,  for  a  short  time,  w^here  you  may  be  con- 
cealed from  those  who  are  not  yet  prepared  to  do  you 
justice,  and  then — I  will  answer  for  it — every  heart 
and  every  voice  will  unite  to  recall  you ;  you  shall  be 
welcomed  w^ith  the  honour  due  to  you  from  all,  and 
always  cherished  with  the  devotion  due  from  us." 

"  Oh  !  do  not  hesitate,  Magawisca,"  cried  Hope, 
who  had,  till  now,  been  only  a  listener  to  the  con- 
versation, in  which  she  took  a  deep  interest.  "  Prom- 
ise us  that  you  will  return  and  dwell  with  us :  as 

Vol.  IL— U 


230  HOPE    LESLIE. 

you  would  say,  Magawisca,  we  will  walk  in  the 
same  path ;  the  same  joys  will  shine  on  us ;  and,  if 
need  be  that  sorrows  come  over  us,  why,  we  will  all 
sit  under  their  shadow  together." 

"  It  cannot  be — it  cannot  be,"  replied  Magawis- 
ca, the  persuasions  of  those  she  loved  not  for  a  mo- 
ment overcoming  her  deep,  invincible  sense  of  the 
wrongs  her  injured  race  had  sustained.  "  My  peo- 
ple have  been  spoiled ;  we  cannot  take  as  a  gift  that 
which  is  our  own  ;  the  law  of  vengeance  is  written 
on  our  hearts :  you  say  you  have  a  written  rule  of 
forgiveness — it  may  be  better  if  ye  would  be  guided 
by  it ;  it  is  not  for  us  :  the  Indian  and  the  white  man 
can  no  more  mingle  and  become  one  than  day  and 
night." 

Everell  and  Hope  would  have  interrupted  her  with 
farther  entreaties  and  arguments  :  "  Touch  no  more 
on  that,"  she  said ;  "  we  must  part,  and  forever." 
Her  voice  faltered  for  the  first  time,  and  turning  from 
her  own  fate  to  what  appeared  to  her  the  bright  des- 
tiny of  her  companions,  "  My  spirit  will  joy  in  the 
thought,"  she  said,  "  that  you  are  dwelling  in  love 
and  happiness  together.  Nelema  told  me  your  souls 
were  mated ;  she  said  your  affections  mingled  like 
streams  from  the  same  fountain.  Oh !  may  the  chains 
by  which  He  who  sent  you  from  the  Spirit-land 
bound  you  together,  grow  brighter  and  stronger  till 
you  return  thither  again." 

She  paused  :  neither  of  her  companions  spoke — 
neither  could  speak ;  and,  naturally  misinterpreting 
their  silence,  "  Have  I  passed  your  bound  of  modes- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  231 

ty,"  she  said,  "  in  speaking  to  the  maiden  as  if  she 
were  a  wife  ?" 

"Oh,  no,  Magawisca,"  said  Everell,  feeling  a 
strange  and  undefinable  pleasure  in  an  illusion 
which,  though  he  could  not  for  an  instant  partici- 
pate, he  would  not  for  the  world  have  dissipated ; 
"  oh,  no ;  do  not  check  one  expression — one  word  ; 
they  are  your  last  to  us."  "  And  may  not  the  last 
words  of  a  friend  be,  like  the  sayings  of  a  death-bed, 
prophetic  ?"  he  would  have  added,  but  his  lips  re- 
fused to  utter  what  he  felt  was  the  treachery  of  his 
heart. 

To  Hope  it  seemed  that  too  much  had  already 
been  spoken.  She  could  be  prudent  when  anything 
but  her  own  safety  depended  on  her  discretion.  Be- 
fore Magawisca  could  reply  to  Everell,  she  gave  a 
turn  to  the  conversation :  "  Ere  we  part,  Magawis- 
ca," she  said,  "  cannot  you  give  me  some  charm  by 
which  I  may  win  my  sister's  affections  ?  She  is  wast- 
ing away  with  grief  and  pining." 

"  Ask  your  own  heart,  Hope  Leslie,  if  any  charm 
could  win  your  affections  from  Everell  Fletcher  ?" 

She  paused  for  a  reply.  The  gulf  from  which 
Hope  had  retreated  seemed  to  be  widening  before 
her ;  but,  summoning  all  her  courage,  she  answered 
with  a  tolerably  firm  voice, "  Yes — yes,  Magawisca ; 
if  virtue — if  duty  to  others  required  it,  I  trust  in  Heav- 
en I  could  command  and  direct  my  affections." 

We  hope  Everell  may  be  forgiven  for  the  joy 
that  gushed  through  his  heart  when  Hope  expressed 
a  confidence  in  her  own  strength,  which  at  least  im- 


232  HOPE   LESLIE. 

plied  a  consciousness  that  she  needed  it.  Nature 
•will  rejoice  in  reciprocated  love,  under  whatever  ad- 
versities it  conies. 

Magawisca  replied  to  Hope's  apparent  meaning : 
"Both  virtue  and  duty,"  she  said,  "  bind  your  sister 
to  Oneco.  She  hath  been  married  according  to  our 
simple  modes,  and  persuaded  by  a  Romish  father,  as 
she  came  from  Christian  blood,  to  observe  the  rites 
of  their  law.  When  she  flies  from  you,  as  she  will, 
mourn  not  over  her,  Hope  Leslie;  the  wild  flower 
would  p'epish  in  your  gardens ;  the  forest  is  like  a 
native  home  to  her,  and  she  will  sing  as  gayly  again 
as  the  bird  that  hath  found  its  mate." 

They  now  approached  the  place  where  Digby, 
with  a  trusty  friend,  was  awaiting  them.  A  hght 
canoe  had  been  provided,  and  Digby  had  his  instruc- 
tions from  Everell  to  convey  Magawisca  to  any  place 
she  might  herself  select.  The  good  fellow^  had  en- 
tered into  the  confederacy  with  hearty  good-will, 
giving,  as  a  reason  for  his  obedience  to  the  impulse 
of  his  heart,  "  that  the  poor  Indian  girl  could  not 
commit  sins  enough  against  the  English  to  \veigh 
down  her  good  deed  to  Mr.  Everell." 

Everell  now  inquired  of  Magawisca  whither  he 
should  direct  the  boat :  "  To  Moscutusett,"  she  said ; 
"  I  shall  there  get  tidings,  at  least,  of  my  father." 

"  And  must  we  now  part,  Magawisca  ?  Must  we 
live  without  you  ?" 

"  Oh  !  no,  no,"  cried  Hope,  joining  her  entreaties, 
"  your  noble  mind  must  not  be  w^asted  in  those  hid- 
eous solitudes." 


HOPE    LESLIE.  233 

"  Solitudes !"  echoed  Magawisca,  in  a  voice  in 
which  some  pride  mingled  with  her  parting  sadness ; 
"  Hope  Leslie,  there  is  no  solitude  to  me ;  the  Great 
Spirit  and  his  ministers  are  everywhere  present  and 
visible  to  the  eye  of  the  soul  that  loves  him ;  Nature 
is  but  his  interpreter ;  her  forms  are  but  bodies  for 
his  spirit.  I  hear  him  in  the  rushing  winds — in  the 
summer  breeze — in  the  gushing  fountains — in  the 
softly  running  streams.  I  see  him  in  the  bursting 
life  of  spring — in  the  ripening  maize — in  the  falling 
leaf.  Those  beautiful  lights,"  and  she  pointed  up- 
ward, "  that  shine  alike  on  your  stately  domes  and 
our  forest  homes,  speak  to  me  of  his  love  to  all : 
think  you  I  go  to  a  solitude,  Hope  Leslie  ?" 

"  No,  Magawisca ;  there  is  no  solitude,  nor  pri- 
vation, nor  sorrow  to  a  soul  that  thus  feels  the  pres- 
ence of  God,"  replied  Hope.  She  paused  :  it  was 
not  a  time  for  calm  reflection  or  protracted  solicita- 
tion ;  but  the  thought  that  a  mind  so  disposed  to  re- 
ligious impressions  and  affections  might  enjoy  the 
brighter  light  of  Christian  revelation — a  revelation 
so  much  higher,  nobler,  and  fuller  than  that  which 
proceeds  from  the  voice  of  Nature — made  Hope  feel 
a  more  intense  desire  than  ever  to  retain  Magawis- 
ca ;  but  this  was  a  motive  Magawisca  could  not  now 
appreciate,  and  she  could  not,  therefore,  urge :  "  I 
cannot  ask  you,"  she  said, "  I  do  not  ask  you,  for 
your  sake,  but  for  ours,  to  return  to  us." 

"  Oh !  yes,  Magawisca,"  urged  Everell,  "  come 
back  to  us,  and  teach  us  to  be  happy,  as  you  are, 
without  human  help  or  agency." 
U  2 


234  HOPE    LESLIE. 

"  Ah !"  she  replied,  with  a  faint  smile,  "  ye  need 
not  the  lesson ;  ye  will  each  be  to  the  other  a  full 
stream  of  happiness.  May  it  be  fed  from  the  fount- 
ain of  love,  and  grow  broader  and  deeper  through 
all  the  passage  of  life." 

The  picture  Magawisca  presented  was,  in  the 
minds  of  the  lovers,  too  painfully  contrasted  with  the 
real  state  of  their  affairs.  Both  felt  their  emotions 
were  beyond  their  control ;  both  silently  appealed  to 
Heaven  to  aid  them  in  repressing  feelings  that  might 
not  be  expressed. 

Hope  naturally  sought  relief  in  action.  She  took 
a  morocco  case  from  her  pocket,  and  drew  from  it  a 
rich  gold  chain,  with  a  clasp  containing  hair,  and  set 
round  with  precious  stones :  "  Magawisca,"  she  said, 
with  as  much  steadiness  of  voice  as  she  could  assume, 
"  take  this  token  with  you ;  it  will  serve  as  a  memo- 
rial of  us  both ;  for  I  have  put  in  the  clasp  a  lock  of 
Everell's  hair,  taken  from  his  head  when  he  was  a 
boy,  at  Bethel :  it  will  remind  you  of  your  happiest 
days  there." 

Magawisca  took  the  chain,  and  held  it  in  her  hand 
a  moment,  as  if  deliberating.  "  This  is  beautiful," 
she  said,  "  and  would,  when  I  am  far  away  from 
thee,  speak  sweetly  to  me  of  thy  kindness,  Hope 
Leslie.  But  I  would  rather,  if  I  could  demean  ray- 
self  to  be  a  beggar — "  she  hesitated,  and  then  added, 
"I  wrong  thy  generous  nature  in  fearing  thus  to 
speak  ;  I  know  thou  wilt  freely  give  me  the  image, 
when  thou  hast  the  living  form." 

Before  she  had  finished,  Hope's  quick  apprehen- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  235 

sion  had  comprehended  her  meaning.  Immediately 
after  Everell's  arrival  in  England,  he  had,  at  his  fa- 
ther's desire,  had  a  small  miniature  of  himself  paint- 
ed, and  sent  to  Hope.  She  attached  it  to  a  riband, 
and  had  always  worn  it.  Soon  after  Everell's  en- 
gagement to  Miss  Downing,  she  took  it  off  to  put  it 
aside ;  but  feeling,  at  the  moment,  that  this  action 
implied  a  consciousness  of  weakness,  she,  with  a 
mixed  feeling  of  pride  and  reluctance  to  part  with 
it,  restored  it  to  her  bosom.  While  she  was  adjust- 
ing Magawisca's  disguise  in  the  prison,  the  miniature 
slid  from  beneath  her  dress,  and  she,  at  the  time,  ob- 
served that  Magawisca's  eye  rested  intently  on  it. 
She  must  not  now  hesitate ;  Everell  must  not  see  her 
reluctance ;  and  yet,  such  are  the  strange  contrarie- 
ties of  human  feeling,  the  severest  pang  she  felt  in 
parting  with  it  was  the  fear  that  Everell  would  think 
it  was  a  w^illing  gift.  Hoping  to  shelter  all  her  feel- 
ings in  the  haste  of  the  action,  she  took  the  miniature 
from  her  own  neck  and  tied  it  around  Magawisca's. 
"  You  have  but  reminded  me  of  my  duty,"  she  said; 
"  nay,  keep  them  both,  Magawisca ;  do  not  stint  the 
little  kindness  I  can  show  you." 

Digby  had  at  this  moment  come  up  to  urge  no 
more  delay ;  and  we  leave  to  others  to  adjust  the 
proportions  of  emotion  that  were  indicated  by  Hope's 
faltering  voice  and  an  irrepressible  burst  of  tears, 
between  her  grief  at  parting  and  other  and  secret 
feelings. 

All  stood  as  if  they  were  riveted  to  the  ground 
till  Digby  again  spoke,  and  suggested  the  danger  to 


236  HOPE    LESLIE. 

which  Magawisca  was  exposed  by  this  delay.  All 
felt  the  necessity  of  immediate  separation,  and  all 
shrank  from  it  as  from  witnessing  the  last  gasp  of 
life.  They  moved  to  the  water's  edge,  and  once 
more  prompted  by  Digby,  Everell  and  Hope,  in  bro- 
ken voices,  expressed  their  last  wishes  and  prayers. 
Magawisca  joined  their  hands,  and  bowing  her  head 
on  them,  "  The  Great  Spirit  guide  ye,"  she  said,  and 
then,  turning  away,  leaped  into  the  boat,  muffled  her 
face  in  her  mantle,  and  in  a  few  brief  moments  dis- 
appeared forever  from  their  sight. 

Everell  and  Hope  remained  immovable,  gazing  on 
the  little  boat  till  it  faded  in  the  dim  distance  :  for  a 
few  moments,  every  feeling  for  themselves  was  lost 
in  the  grief  of  parting  forever  from  this  admirable 
being,  who  seemed,  to  her  enthusiastic  young  friends, 
one  of  the  noblest  of  the  w^orks  of  God — a  bright 
witness  to  the  beauty,  the  independence,  and  the  im- 
mortality of  virtue.  They  breathed  their  silent 
prayers  for  her ;  and  when  their  thoughts  returned 
to  themselves,  there  was  a  consciousness  of  perfect 
unity  of  feeling — a  joy  in  the  sympathy  that  was 
consecrated  by  its  object  and  might  be  innocently  in- 
dulged, that  was  a  delicious  spell  to  their  troubled 
hearts. 

Strong  as  the  temptation  was,  they  both  felt  the 
impropriety  of  lingering  where  they  were,  and  they 
bent  their  slow,  unwilling  footsteps  homeward.  Not 
one  word,  during  the  long-protracted  walk,  was  spo- 
ken by  either :  but  no  language  could  have  been  so 
expressive  of  their  mutual  love  and  mutual  resolu- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  237 

tion  as  this  silence.  They  both  afterward  confessed 
that,  though  they  had  never  felt  so  deeply  as  at  that 
moment  the  bitterness  of  their  divided  destiny,  yet 
neither  had  they  before  known  the  worth  of  those 
principles  of  virtue  that  can  subdue  the  strongest  pas- 
sions to  their  obedience  :  an  experience  worth  a 
tenfold  suffering. 

As  they  approached  Governor  Winthrop's,  they 
observed  that,  instead  of  the  profound  darkness  and 
silence  that  usually  reigned  in  that  exemplary  man- 
sion at  eleven  o'clock,  the  house  seemed  to  be  in 
great  bustle.  The  doors  were  open,  and  they  heard 
loud  voices,  and  lights  were  swiftly  passing  from 
room  to  room.  Hope  inferred  that,  notwithstanding 
her  precautions,  the  apprehensions  of  the  family  had 
probably  been  excited  in  regard  to  her  untimely  ab- 
sence, and  she  passed  the  little  distance  that  remain- 
ed with  dutiful  haste.  Everell  attended  her  to  the 
gate  of  the  court,  and,  pressing  her  hand  to  his  lips 
with  an  emotion  that  he  felt  he  might  indulge  for  the 
last  time,  he  left  her,  and  went,  according  to  a  previ- 
ous determination,  to  Barnaby  Tuttle's,  where,  by  a 
surrender  of  himself  to  the  jailer's  custody,  he  expect- 
ed to  relieve  poor  Cradock  from  his  involuntary  con- 
finement. 


238  HOPE    LESLIE. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

"  Quelque  rare  que  soil  le  veritable  amour  il  Test  encore  moins 
que  la  veritable  amitie,"— Rochefoucauld. 

Hope  Leslie  met  Mr.  Fletcher  at  the  threshold  of 
the  door.  He  was  sallying  forth  with  hasty  steps 
and  disordered  looks.  He  started  at  the  sight  of  her, 
and  then,  clasping  her  in  his  arms,  exclaimed,  "  My 
child !  my  child !  my  precious  child  !" 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice,  the  whole  family  rushed 
from  the  parlour.  "  Praised  be  the  Lord  for  thy  de- 
liverance, Hope  Leslie  !"  cried  Governor  Winthrop, 
clasping  his  hands  with  astonishment.  Mrs.  Graf- 
ton gave  vent  to  her  feelings  in  hysterical  sobbings 
and  inarticulate  murmurs  of  joy.  Madam  Winthrop 
said,  "  I  thought  it  was  impossible ;  I  told  you  the 
Lord  would  be  better  to  you  than  your  fears :"  and 
Esther  Downing  embraced  her  friend  with  deep 
emotion,  whispering  as  she  did  so,  "  The  Lord  is  ever 
better  to  us  than  our  fears  or  our  deservmgs." 

It  was  obvious  to  our  heroine  that  all  this  excite- 
ment and  overflowing  of  tenderness  could  not  be 
occasioned  merely  by  her  unseasonable  absence,  and 
she  begged  to  know  what  had  caused  so  much  alarm. 

The  governor  was  beginning,  in  his  official  man- 
ner, a  formal  statement,  when,  as  if  the  agitations  of 
this  eventful  evening  were  never  to  end,  the  explo- 


HOPE    LESLIE.  239 

sion  of  Chaddock's  vessel  broke  in  upon  their  return- 
ing tranquillity,  and  spread  a  panic  through  the  town 
of  Boston. 

The  occurrence  of  the  accident,  at  this  particular 
moment,  was  fortunate  for  Magawisca,  as  it  prevent- 
ed a  premature  discovery  of  her  escape ;  a  discovery 
by  which  the  governor  would  have  felt  himself 
obhged  to  take  measures  for  her  recapture  that 
might  then  have  proved  effectual.  The  explosion, 
of  course,  withdrew^  his  attention  from  all  other  sub- 
jects, and  both  he  and  Mr.  Fletcher  w^ent  out  to  as- 
certain whence  it  had  proceeded,  and  what  ill  conse- 
quences had  ensued. 

In  the  mean  time,  Hope  learned  the  following  par- 
ticulars from  the  ladies.  The  family  had  retired  to 
bed  at  the  accustomed  time,  and,  about  half  an  hour 
before  her  return,  were  alarmed  by  a  violent  knock- 
ing at  the  outer  door.  The  servant  first  awakened 
let  in  a  stranger,  who  demanded  an  immediate  au- 
dience of  the  governor,  concerning  matters  of  life 
and  death.  The  stranger  proved  to  be  Antonio,  and 
his  communication,  the  conspiracy  wuth  which  our 
readers  are  well  acquainted,  or,  rather,  as  much  of  it 
as  had  fallen  within  the  knowledge  of  the  subordi- 
nate agents.  Antonio  declared  that,  having  within 
the  harbour  of  Boston  been  favom'ed  with  an  extra- 
ordinary visitation  from  his  tutelar  saint,  who  had 
vouchsafed  to  warn  him  against  his  sinful  comrades, 
he  had  determined,  from  the  first,  that  he  would,  if 
possible,  prevent  the  wicked  designs  of  the  conspira- 
tors J  and  for  that  purpose  had  solicited  to  be  among 


240      -  HOPE    LESLIE. 

the  number  who  were  sent  on  shore,  intending  to 
give  notice  to  the  governor  in  time  for  him  to  coun- 
teract the  wicked  project :  he  averred  that,  after  quit- 
ting the  boat,  he  had  heard  the  screams  of  the  un- 
happy girl  when  she  was  seized  by  the  sailors ;  he 
had  been  spurred  to  all  possible  haste,  but,  unhap- 
pily, ignorant  of  the  town,  had  strayed  out  of  his 
way  in  coming  from  the  cove,  and,  finally,  had  found 
it  almost  impossible  to  rouse  any  of  the  sleeping  in- 
habitants to  guide  him  to  the  governor's. 

Antonio  knew  the  name  of  the  author  of  this 
guilty  project  to  be  Sir  Philip  Gardiner,  and  its  vic- 
tim. Miss  Leslie.  These  names  were  fearful  hints  to 
the  governor,  and  had  prevented  his  listening  with 
utter  incredulity  to  the  tale  of  the  stranger.  As  the 
easiest  means  of  obtaining  its  confirmation  or  refuta- 
tion, a  messenger  was  despatched  to  Sir  Philip's 
lodgings,  who  almost  instantly  returned  with  the  in- 
telligence that  he,  his  page  and  baggage,  had  clan- 
destinely disappeared  during  the  evening.  This  was 
a  frightful  coincidence;  and,  while  the  governor's 
orders  that  all  the  family  should  be  called  were  ex- 
ecuting, he  made  one  farther  investigation. 

He  recollected  the  packet  of  letters  which  Rosa 
had  given  to  her  master  during  the  trial.  Sir  Philip 
had  laid  them  on  the  table,  and,  forgetting  them  in 
the  confusion  that  followed,  the  governor  had  taken 
possession  of  them,  intending  to  restore  them  at  the 
first  opportunity.  He  felt  himself  now  not  only  au- 
thorized to  break  the  seals,  but  compelled  to  that 
discourtesy.     The  letters  were  from  a  confidential 


HOPE    LESLIE.  '       241 

correspondent,  and  proved  beyond  a  doubt  that  Sir 
Philip  had  formerly  been  the  p'otege  and  ally  of 
Thomas  Morton,  the  old  political  enemy  of  the  col- 
ony ;  that  he  was  a  Roman  Catholic  ;  of  course,  that 
the  governor  and  his  friends  had  been  duped  by  his 
religious  pretensions  ;  and,  in  short,  that  he  was  an 
utter  profligate,  who  regarded  neither  the  laws  of 
God  nor  man. 

And  into  the  powder  of  this  wretch  the  friends  of 
Miss  Leslie  were  left,  for  a  few  agonizing  moments, 
to  believe  she  had  fallen  ;  and  their  joy  at  her  ap- 
pearance W'as,  as  may  be  believed,  commensurate 
with  their  previous  distress. 

Some  of  the  minor  incidents  of  the  evening  now 
transpired.  One  of  the  servants  reported  that  the 
young  sailor  had  disappeared;  and  Mrs.  Grafton 
suddenly  recollected  to  have  observed  that  Faith 
Leslie  was  not  with  her  when  she  was  awakened,  a 
circumstance  she  had  overlooked  in  her  subsequent 
agitation.  By  a  single  clew  an  intricate  maze  may 
be  threaded.  Madam  Winthrop  now  recalled  Faith 
Leslie's  emotion  at  the  first  sound  of  the  sailor's  voice, 
and  the  ladies  soon  arrived  at  the  right  conclusion, 
that  he  was  in  reality  Oneco,  and  that  they  had  ef- 
fected their  escape  together.  Jennet  (if  Jennet  had 
survived  to  hear  it,  she  never  would  have  believed 
the  tale),  the  only  actual  sufferer,  was  the  only  one 
neither  missed  nor  inquired  for.  Good  Master  Cra- 
dock  was  not  forgotten  ;  but  his  friends  were  sat- 
isfied with  Miss  Leslie's  assurance  that  he  was  safe, 
and  would  probably  not  return  before  the  morning. 

Vol.  II.— X 


242  HOPE    LESLIE. 

The  final  departure  of  her  sister  cost  Hope  many 
regrets  and  tears.  But  an  inevitable  event  of  such 
a  nature  cannot  seriously  disturb  the  happiness  of 
life.  There  had  been  nothing  in  the  intercourse  of 
the  sisters  to  excite  Hope's  affections.  Faith  had 
been  spiritless,  wo-begone — a  soulless  body — and 
had  repelled,  with  sullen  indifference,  all  Hope's  ef- 
forts to  win  her  love.  Indeed,  she  looked  upon  the 
attentions  of  her  English  friends  but  as  a  continua- 
tion of  the  unjust  force  by  which  they  had  severed 
her  from  all  she  held  dear.  Her  marriage,  solem- 
nized, as  it  had  been,  by  prescribed  Christian  rites, 
would  probably  have  been  considered  by  her  guar- 
dian and  his  friends  as  invalidated  by  her  extreme 
youth,  and  the  circumstances  which  had  led  to  the 
union.  But  Hope  took  a  more  youthful,  romantic, 
and,  perhaps,  natural  view  of  the  affair ;  and  the  sug- 
gestions of  Magawisca,  combining  with  the  dictates 
of  her  own  heart,  produced  the  conclusion  that  this 
was  a  case  where  *'  God  had  joined  together,  and 
man  might  not  put  asunder." 

All  proper  (though,  it  may  be,  not  very  vigorous) 
measures  were  taken  by  Governor  Winthrop,  on  the 
following  day,  to  discover  the  retreat  of  the  fugi- 
tives, but  the  secret  was  faithfully  kept  while  ne- 
cessary to  their  security. 

The  return  of  his  children,  and,  above  all,  of  Mag- 
awisca, seemed  to  work  miracles  on  their  old  father ; 
his  health  and  strength  were  renewed,  and  for  a 
while  he  forgot,  in  the  powerful  influence  of  her 
.  presence,  his  wrongs  and  sorrows.     He  would  not 


$ 

HOPE    LESLIE.  243 

hazard  the  safety  of  his  protector  and  that  of  his 
own  family  by  lingering  a  single  day  in  the  vicinity 
of  his  enemies. 

Before  the  dawn  of  the  next  morning,  this  little 
remnant  of  the  Pequod  race — a  name  at  which,  but 
a  few  years  before,  all  within  the  bounds  of  the  New- 
England  colonies — all,  English  and  Indians,  "  grew 
pale" — began  their  pilgrimage  to  the  far  western 
forests.  That  which  remains  untold  of  their  story  is 
lost  in  the  deep,  voiceless  obscurity  of  those  unknown 
regions. 

The  terrors  her  friends  had  suffered  on  account  of 
our  heroine,  induced  them  to  overlook  everything 
but  the  joy  of  her  safety.  She  was  permitted  to  re- 
tire with  Esther  to  their  own  apartment,  without  any 
inquisition  being  made  into  the  cause  of  her  extraor- 
dinary absence.  Even  her  friend,  when  they  were 
alone  together,  made  no  allusion  to  it,  and  Hope 
rightly  concluded  that  she  was  satisfied  with  her 
own  conjectures  as  to  its  object. 

Hope  could  scarcely  refrain  from  indulging  the 
natural  frankness  of  her  temper,  by  disclosing,  unso- 
licited, the  particulars  of  her  successful  enterprise ; 
and  she  only  checked  the  inclinations  of  her  heart 
from  the  apprehension  that  Esther  might  deem  it  her 
duty  to  extend  her  knowledge  to  her  uncle,  and  thus 
Magawisca  might  be  again  endangered.  "  She  cer- 
tainly conjectures  how  it  is,"  thought  Hope,  making 
her  own  mental  comments  on  Esther's  forbearance ; 
"  and  yet  she  does  not  indicate  the  least  displeasure 
at  my  having  combined  with  Everell  to  render  the 


244  HOPE    LESLIE. 

delightful  service  that  her  severe  conscience  would 
not  allov»r  her  to  perform.  She  never  spoke  to  me 
with  more  tenderness :  how  could  I  ever  suspect  her 
of  jealousy  or  distrust  ?  She  is  incapable  of  either — 
she  is  angelic  ',  far,  far  more  deserving  of  Everell 
than  I  am." 

At  this  last  thought,  a  half-stifled  but  audible  sigh 
escaped  her,  and  reached  her  friend's  ear.  Their 
eyes  met.  A  deep,  scorching  blush  suffused  Hope's 
cheeks,  brow,  and  neck.  Esther's  face  beamed  with 
ineffable  sweetness  and  serenity.  She  looked  as  a 
mortal  can  look  only  when  the  world  and  its  tempt- 
ations are  trampled  beneath  the  feet,  and  the  eye  is 
calmly,  steadily,  immovably  fixed  on  Heaven.  She 
folded  Hope  in  her  arms,  and  pressed  her  fondly  to 
her  heart,  but  not  a  word,  tear,  or  sigh  escaped  her. 
Her  soul  was  composed  to  a  profound  stillness,  in- 
capable of  being  disturbed  by  her  friend's  tears  and 
sobs,  the  involuntary  expression  of  her  agitated, 
confused,  and  irrepressible  feelings. 

Hope  turned  away  from  Esther  and  crept  into  her 
bed,  feeling,  like  a  condemned  culprit,  self-condemn- 
ed. It  seemed  to  her  that  a  charm  had  been  wrought 
on  her  ;  a  sudden  illumination  had  flashed  from  her 
friend's  face  into  the  most  secret  recesses  of  her 
heart,  and  exposed — this  was  her  most  distressful 
apprehension — to  Esther's  eye  feelings  w^hose  exist- 
ence, till  thus  revealed  to  another  (and  the  last  per- 
son in  the  world  to  whom  they  should  be  revealed), 
she  had  only,  and  reluctantly,  acknowledged  to  her- 
self. 


HOPE    LESLIE.  245 

Deeply  mortified  and  humbled,  she  remained 
wakeful,  weeping  and  lamenting  this  sudden  expo- 
sure of  emotions  that  she  feared  could  never  be  ex- 
plained or  forgotten,  long  after  her  friend  had  encir- 
cled her  in  her  arms,  and  fallen  into  a  sw^eet  and  pro- 
found sleep. 

We  must  leave  the  apartment  of  the  generous  and 
involuntary  rivals  to  repair  to  the  parlour,  where 
Governor  Winthrop,  after  having  ascertained  that 
Chaddock's  vessel  had  been  blown  up  by  the  explo- 
sion, w^as  hstening  to  Barnaby  Tuttle's  relation  of  the 
transaction  at  the  prison. 

The  simple  jailer,  on  learning  from  EverelPs  con- 
fessions how  he  had  been  cajoled,  declined  increasing 
his  responsibilities  by  making  the  exchange  Everell 
proposed,  but  very  readily  acceded  to  his  next  prop- 
osition, namely,  that  he  should  be  permitted  to 
share  the  imprisonment  of  Cradock.  On  entering 
the  dungeon,  they  found  the  good  old  man  sleeping 
as  soundly  on  Magawisca's  pallet  as  if  he  w^ere  in 
his  own  apartment ;  and  Everell,  rejoicing  that  he 
had  suffered  so  httle  in  the  good  cause  to  w^hich  it 
had  been  necessary  to  make  him  accessory,  and  ex- 
ulting in  the  success  of  his  enterprise,  took  possession 
of  his  dark  and  miserable  cell  with  feelings  that  he 
would  not  have  bartered  for  those  of  a  conqueror 
mounting  his  triumphal  car. 

Barnaby  had  a  natural  feeling  of  vexation  at  hav- 
ing been  outwitted  by  Hope  Leslie's  stratagems ;  but 
it  was  a  transient  emotion,  and  not  strong  enough  to 
check  the  habitual  current  of  his  gratitude  and  affec- 
X  2 


240  HOPE    LESLIE. 

tion  for  her,  nor  did  it  at  all  enter  into  his  relation  of 
the  facts  to  the  governor.  On  the  contrary,  his  nat- 
ural kind-heartedness  rendered  the  statement  favour- 
able towards  all  parties. 

He  did  not  mention  Magawisca's  name  without  a 
parenthesis,  containing  some  commendation  of  her 
deportment  in  the  prison.  He  spoke  of  Hope  Leslie  as 
the  "  thoughtless  child,"  or  the  "  feeling  young  crea- 
ture." Master  Cradock  was  "  the  poor,  witless  old 
gentleman  ;"  and  "  for  Mr.  Everell,  it  was  not  with- 
in the  bounds  of  human  nature,  in  his  peculiar  case, 
not  to  feel  as  he  did ;  and  as  to  himself,  he  w^as  but 
an  old  dotard,  ill  fitted  to  keep  bars  and  bolts,  when 
a  child — the  Lord  and  the  governor  forgive  her  ! — 
could  guide  him  with  a  wisp  of  straw." 

Nothing  was  farther  from  Barnaby  Tuttle's 
thoughts  than  any  endeavour  to  blind  or  pervert  a 
ruler's  judgment ;  but  the  governor  found  something 
infectious  in  his  artless  humanity.  Besides,  he  had 
one  good,  sufficient,  and  state  reason  for  extenuating 
the  offence  of  the  young  conspirators,  and  of  this  he 
made  a  broad  canopy  to  shelter  his  secret  and  kind 
dispositions  towards  them.  A  messenger  had  that 
day  arrived  from  the  chief  of  the  Narragansetts,  with 
the  information  that  a  war  had  broken  out  between 
Miantunnoraoh  and  Uncas,  and  an  earnest  solicita- 
tion that  the  English  would  not  interfere  with  their 
domestic  quarrels. 

To  our  ancestors  it  appeared  their  melancholy 
policy  to  promote  rather  than  to  allay  these  feuds 
among  the  tribes;  and  a  war  between  these  rival 


HOPE    LESLIE.  247 

and  powerful  chieftains  assured,  while  it  lasted,  the 
safety  of  the  English  settlements.  It  became,  there- 
fore, very  important  to  avoid  any  act  that  might  pro- 
voke the  universal  Indian  sentiment  against  the  Eng- 
lish, and  induce  them  to  forego  their  civil  quarrel, 
and  combine  against  the  common  enemy.  This 
would  be  the  probable  effect  of  the  condemnation 
of  the  Pequod  girl,  whose  cause  had  been  espoused 
by  several  of  the  tribes  :  still,  on  a  farther  investiga- 
tion of  her  case,  the  laws  might  require  her  condem- 
nation ;  and  the  Puritans  held  firmly  ta  the  principle 
that  good  must  be  done,  though  evil  ensue. 

Governor  Winthrop  perceived  that  Magawisca's 
escape  relieved  them  from  much  and  dangerous  per- 
plexity ;  and  though  Everell  Fletcher's  interposition 
had  been  unlawful  and  indecorous,  yet,  as  Providence 
had  made  him  the  instrument  of  otitain  good,  he 
thought  his  offence  might  be  pardoned  by  his  asso- 
ciates in  authority. 

He  dismissed  Barnaby  with  an  order  to  appear 
before  him  with  his  prisoners  at  six  o'clock  the  fol- 
lowing mornino'.  At  that  hour  he  assembled  tos^eth- 
er  such  of  the  magistrates  and  deputies  as  were  in 
Boston,  deeming  it,  as  he  said,  proper  to  give  them 
the  earliest  notice  of  the  various  important  circum- 
stances that  had  occurred  since  the  morning  of  the 
preceding  day. 

He  opened  the  meeting  with  a  communication  of 
the  important  intelligence  received  from  the  Narra- 
gansett  chief;  intimated  the  politic  uses  to  which  his 
brethren  might  apply  it ;  then,  after  some  general 


248  HOPE    LESLIE. 

observations  on  the  imperfection  of  human  wisdom, 
disclosed  at  full  the  iniquitous  character  and  conduct 
of  Sir  Philip  Gardiner  ;  lamented,  in  particular,  that 
he  had  been  grievously  deceived  by  that  crafty  son 
of  Belial,  and  then  dwelt  on  the  wonderful  interpo- 
sition of  Providence  in  behalf  of  Hope  Leslie,  which 
clearly  intimated,  as  he  said,  and  all  his  auditors  ac- 
knowledged, that  the  young  maiden's  life  was  pre- 
cious in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  and  was  preserved  for 
some  special  purpose. 

He  called  their  attention  to  the  light  thrown  on 
the  testimony  of  Sir  Philip  against  the  Indian  pris- 
oner by  his  real  character  ;  and,  last  of  all,  he  com- 
municated the  escape  of  Magawisca,  and  the  means 
by  which  it  had  been  accomplished,  with  this  com- 
ment simply,  that  it  had  pleased  the  Lord  to  bring 
about  great  good  to  the  land  by  this  rash  act  of  two 
young  persons,  who  seemed  to  have  been  wrought 
upon  by  feelings  natural  to  youth,  and  the  foolishness 
of  an  old  man,  whose  original  modicum  of  sense  was 
greatly  diminished  by  age  and  excess  of  useless 
learning  ;  for,  he  said.  Master  Cradock  not  only 
wrote  Greek  and  Latin,  and  talked  Hebrew  like  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Cotton,  but  he  w^as  skilled  in  Arabic  and 
the  modern  tongues. 

The  governor  then  proceeded  to  give  many  and 
plausible  reasons,  with  the  detail  of  which  it  is  not 
necessary  to  weary  the  patience  of  our  readers,  why 
this  case,  in  the  absence  of  a  precise  law,  should  be 
put  under  the  government  of  mercy.  His  associates 
lent  a  favourable  ear  to  these  suggestions.     Most  of 


HOPE    LESLIE,  249 

them  considered  the  offence  very  much  alleviated  by 
the  youth  of  the  two  principal  parties,  and  the  strong 
motives  that  actuated  them.  Some  of  the  magis- 
trates were  warm  friends  of  the  elder  Fletcher,  and 
all  of  them  might  have  been  quickened  in  their  de- 
cision by  the  approach  of  the  breakfast  hour ;  for,  as 
modern  philosophy  has  discovered,  the  mind  and 
senwsibilities  are  much  under  the  dominion  of  these 
periodical  returns  of  the  hours  of  refection. 

The  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  was,  that  Miss 
Leslie  and  Master  Cradock  should  receive  a  private 
admonition  from  the  governor,  and  a  free  pardon; 
and  that  Mr.  Everell  Fletcher  should  be  restored  to 
liberty  on  condition  that,  at  the  next  sitting  of  the 
court,  he  appeared  in  the  prisoner's  bar  to  receive  a 
public  censure,  and  be  admonished  as  to  his  future 
carriage.  To  this  sentence  Everell  submitted  at  the 
proper  time  with  due  humility,  and  a  very  becom- 
ing, and,  as  said  the  elders,  edifying  modesty. 

Throughout  the  whole  affair,  Governor  Winthrop 
manifested  those  dispositions  to  clemency  which  were 
so  beautifully  illustrated  by  one  of  the  last  circum- 
stances of  his  life,  when,  being,  as  is  reported  of 
him,  upon  his  deathbed,  Mr.  Dudley  pressed  him  to 
sign  an  order  of  banishment  of  an  heterodox  person, 
he  refused,  saying,  "  /  have  done  too  much  of  that 
icork  already." 

Everell  and  Master  Cradock,  who  had  awaited  in 
an  adjoining  apartment  the  result  of  these  delibera- 
tions, were  now  informed  of  the  merciful  decision  of 
their  judges,  and  summoned  to  take  their  places  at 


250  HOPE    LESLIE. 

the  breakfast-table.  While  all  this  business  was 
transpiring,  Hope  Leslie,  wearied  by  the  fatigues, 
agitations,  and  protracted  vigil  of  the  preceding- 
night,  w^as  sleeping  most  profoundly.  She  awoke 
•with  a  confused  sense  of  her  last  anxious  waking 
thoughts,  and  naturally  turned  to  look  for  Esther; 
but  Esther  had  already  risen.  This  excited  no  sur- 
prise ;  for  it  must  be  confessed  that  our  heroine  was 
often  anticipated  in  early  rising,  as  in  other  severe 
duties,  by  her  friend.  Admonished  by  a  broad  sun- 
beam that  streamed  aslant  her  apartment  that  she 
had  already  trespassed  on  the  family  breakfast  hour, 
she  rose  and  despatched  her  toilet  duties.  Her  mind 
was  still  intent  on  Esther,  and  suddenly  she  missed 
some  familiar  objects :  Esther's  morocco  dressing- 
case  and  Bible,  that  always  laid  at  hand  on  the 
dressing-table.  Hope  w^as  at  that  moment  adjusting 
her  hair  ;  she  dropped  her  comb — cast  a  hasty  sur- 
vey around  the  room.  Esther's  trunks,  bandboxes, 
every  article  belonging  to  her  had  disappeared. 
"  What  could  this  mean  ?"  Some  solution  of  the 
mystery  might  have  dawned  from  the  recollections 
of  the  preceding  night ;  but,  impatient  for  a  full  ex- 
planation, she  seized  her  whistle,  opened  the  door, 
and  blew  for  Jennet  till  its  shrill  notes  had  penetra- 
ted every  recess  of  the  house.  But  no  Jennet  ap- 
peared ;  and,  without  waiting  to  adjust  her  hair, 
which  she  left  in  what  is  called  disorder,  but  accord- 
ing to  the  natural  and  beautiful  order  of  nature,  and 
with  a  flushed  cheek  and  beating  heart,  she  hasti- 
ly descended  to  the  parlour,  and,  dispensing  with  the 


HOPE    LESLIE.  251 

customary  morning  salutations,  eagerly  demanded, 
"  Where  is  Esther  V 

The  family  were  all  assembled,  and  all  at  the 
breakfast-table.  Her  sudden  appearance  produced 
an  apparent  sensation ;  every  eye  turned  towards 
her.  Mrs.  Grafton  would  have  impulsively  answer- 
ed her  question,  but  she  was  prevented  by  an  inti- 
mation from  Madam  Winthrop.  Everell's  eye,  at  the 
sight  of  her,  had  flashed  a  bright,  intelligent  glance, 
but  at  her  interrogatory  it  fell,  and  then  turned  on 
Madam  Winthrop  inquiringly,  indicating  that  he 
now,  for  the  first  time,  perceived  that  there  was 
something  extraordinary  in  the  absence  of  her  niece. 

Hope  still  stood  with  the  door  half  open,  her  emo- 
tions in  no  degree  tranquillized  by  the  reception  of 
her  inquiry. 

Governor  Winthrop  turned  to  her  with  his  usual 
ceremony.  "  Good-morning,  Miss  Hope  Leslie  ;  be 
good  enough  to  close  the  door — the  wind  is  easterly 
this  morning.  You  are  somewhat  tardy,  but  we  know 
you  have  abundant  reason :  take  your  seat,  my  child ; 
apologies  are  unnecessary." 

Madam  Winthrop  beckoned  to  Hope  to  take  a 
chair  next  her,  and  Hope  moved  to  the  table  me- 
chanically, feeling  as  if  she  had  been  paralyzed  by 
some  gorgon  influence.  Her  question  was  not  even 
adverted  to — no  allusion  was  made  to  Esther.  Hope 
observed  that  Madam  Winthrop's  eyes  were  red  with 
weeping,  and  she  also  observed  that,  in  offering  the 
little  civilities  of  the  table,  she  addressed  her  in  a 
voice  of  unusual  kindness. 


252  HOPE    LESLIE. 

She  dared  not  look  again  at  Everell,  whose  unex- 
pected release  from  confinement  would,  at  any  other 
time,  have  fully  occupied  her  thoughts,  and  her  per- 
plexity was  rather  increased  by  seeing  her  guardian's 
eyes  repeatedly  fdl  with  "  soft  tears  unshed,"  while 
they  rested  on  her  with  even  more  than  their  usual 
fondness. 

Impatient  and  embarrassed  as  she  was,  it  seemed 
to  her  the  breakfast  would  never  end  ;  and  she  was 
in  despair  when  her  aunt  asked  for  her  third  and  her 
fourth  cup  of  chocolate,  and  when  the  dismissal  of 
the  table  awaited  old  Cradock's  discussion  of  a  re- 
plenished plate  of  fish,  from  which  he  painfully  and 
patiently  abstracted  the  bones.  But  all  finite  opera- 
tions have  their  period  :  the  breakfast  did  end,  the 
company  rose,  and  all  left  the  parlour,  one  after  an- 
other, save  the  two  Fletchers,  Madam  Winthrop,  and 
our  heroine. 

Hope  would  have  followed  her  aunt — any  farther 
delay  seemed  insupportable — but  Madam  Winthrop 
took  her  hand  and  detained  her.  "  Stay,  my  young 
friend,"  she  said  -,  "  I  have  an  important  communi- 
cation, which  could  not  be  suitably  made  till  this 
moment."  She  took  a  sealed  letter  from  her  pocket. 
"  Nay,  Hope  Leslie,  grow  not  so  suddenly  pale ;  no 
blame  is  attached  to  thee — nor  to  thee,  Mr.  Everell 
Fletcher,  who  art  even  more  deeply  concerned  in  this 
matter.  Both  the  governor  and  myself  have  duly 
weighed  all  the  circumstances,  and  have  most  heart- 
ily approved  of  that  which  she  hath  done,  who,  near 
and  dear  as  she  is  to  us  in  the  flesh,  is  still  nearer 


HOPE    LESLIE.  253 

and  dearer  by  those  precious  gifts  and  graces  that  do 
so  far  exalt  her  (I  would  offend  none  present)  above 
all  other  maidens.  Truly,  '  if  many  do  virtuously,' 
Esther  '  excelleth  them  all.'  " 

Hope  was  obliged  to  lean  against  the  wall  for  sup- 
port. The  elder  Fletcher  looked  earnestly  at  Madam 
Winthrop,  as  if  he  would  have  said,  "  For  Heaven's 
sake,  do  not  protract  this  scene."  Perhaps  she  un- 
derstood his  glance — perhaps  she  took  counsel  from 
her  own  womanly  feelings.  "  This  letter,  my  young 
friends,"  she  said,  "  is  addressed  to  you  both,  and  it 
was  my  niece's  request  that  you  should  read  it  at 
the  same  time." 

Madam  Winthrop  kindly  withdrew.  Everell 
broke  the  seal,  and  both  he  and  Hope,  complying 
faithfully  with  Miss  Downing's  injunction,  read  to- 
gether, to  the  very  last  word,  the  letter  that  follows  : 

"To    MY    DEAR    AND    KIND    FRIENDS,    EvERELL    FlETCHER    AND 

Hope  Leslie  : 

"  When  you  read  these  lines,  the  only  bar  to  your 
earthly  happiness  will  be  removed.  With  the  ad- 
vice and  consent  of  my  honoured  uncle  and  aunt,  I 
have  taken  passage  in  the  '  Lion,'  which,  as  you 
know,  is  on  the  eve  of  saihng  for  London.  With 
God's  blessing  on  my  present  purposes,  I  shall  re- 
main there,  with  my  father,  till  he  has  closed  his  af- 
fairs in  the  Old  World,  and  then  come  hither  asfain. 

"  Do  not  think,  my  dear  friends,  I  am  fleeing 
away,  because,  as  matters  stand  between  us,  I  can- 
not abide  to  stay  here.     For  your  sakes— for  I  would 

Vol.  n.— Y 


254  HOPE    LESLIE. 

not  give  you  needless  pain — I  go  for  a  little  while. 
For  myself,  1  have  contentment  of  mind.  It  hath 
pleased  God  to  give  me  glimpses  of  Christian  hap- 
piness, the  foundations  of  which  are  not  laid  on  the 
earth,  and  therefore  cannot  be  removed  or  jostled  by 
any  of  the  cross  accidents  of  life. 

*'  There  have  been  some  notable  errors  in  the  past. 
We  have  all  erred,  and  I  most  of  all.  My  error 
hath  been  exceeding  humbling  to  the  pride  of  woman ; 
yours,  Hope  Leslie,  w^as  of  the  nature  of  your  dispo- 
sition— rash  and  generous ;  and  you,  Everell  (I  speak 
it  not  reproachfully,  but  as  being  truth-bound),  have 
not  dealt  with  Gospel  sincerity.  I  appeal  to  thine 
ow^n  heart :  would  it  not  have  been  better,  as  well 
as  kinder,  to  have  said,  *  Esther,  I  do  not  love  thee,' 
than  to  have  permitted  me  to  follow  my  silly  ima- 
ginings, and  thereby  have  sacrificed  my  happiness  for 
this  world,  and  thine,  and  Hope  Leslie's?  for  I 
think,  and  am  sure,  you  never  did  me  the  wrong  to 
believe  I  w^ould  knowingly  have  taken  thy  hand 
without  thy  affections — all  of  them  (at  least  such 
measure  as  may  be  given  to  an  earthly  friend)  being 
pooT  and  weak  enough  to  answer  to  the  many  calls 
of  life. 

"  It  is  fitting,  that,  having  been  guided  to  a  safe 
harbour  by  the  good  providence  of  God,  we  should 
look  back  (not  reproachfully — God  forbid  ! — but  with 
gratitude  and  humility)  on  the  dark  and  crooked 
passages  through  which  we  have  passed.  Neither 
our  virtue  (I  speak  it  humbly)  nor  our  happiness 
has  been  wrecked.     Ye  will  in   no  wise  wonder 


HOPE    LESLIE.  255 

that  I  speak  thus  assuredly  of  your  happiness ;  but, 
resting  your  eye  on  the  past,  you  might  justly  deem 
that,  for  myself,  I  have  fallen  into  the  '  foolishness  of 
boasting;'  not  so.  In  another  strength  than  mine 
own  I  have  overcome,  and  am  of  good  cheer,  and 
well  assured  that,  as  the  world  hath  not  given  me 
my  joy,  the  world  cannot  take  it  away. 

"  For  the  rest,  I  shall  ever  rejoice  that  my  affec- 
tions settled  on  one  worthy  of  them  ;  one  for  whom 
I  shall  hereafter  feel  a  sister's  love,  and  one  who 
will  not  withhold  a  brother's  kindness.  And  to  thee, 
my  loving,  my  own  sweet  and  precious  Hope  Les- 
lie, I  resign  him.  And  may  He  who,  by  his  signal 
providence,  hath  so  wonderfully  restored  in  you  the 
sundered  affections  of  your  parents,  knitting,  even 
from  your  childish  years,  your  hearts  together  in  love 
— may  He  make  you  his  own  dear  and  faithful  chil- 
dren in  the  Lord. 

"  Thus,  hoping  for  your  immediate  union  and 
worldly  w^ell-being,  ever  prays  your  true  and  devo- 
ted friend,  Esther  Downing." 

Hope  Leslie's  tears  fell  like  raindrops  on  her 
friend's  letter;  and  when  she  had  finished  it,  she 
turned  and  clasped  her  arms  around  her  guardian's 
neck,  and  hid  her  face  on  his  bosom.  Feelings  for 
which  words  are  too  poor  an  expression,  kept  all 
parties  for  some  time  silent.  To  the  elder  Fletcher 
it  was  a  moment  of  happiness  that  requited  years  of 
suffering.  He  gave  Hope's  hand  to  Everell  : 
"  Sainted  mothers  !"  he  said,  raising  his  full  eyes  to 


256  HOPE    LESLIE. 

Heaven,  ''look  down  on  your  children,  and  bless 
them  !"  And,  truly,  celestial  spirits  might  look  with 
complacency,  from  their  bright  spheres,  on  the  pure 
and  perfect  love  that  united  these  youthful  beings. 

Mr.  Fletcher  withdrew  ;  and  we,  following  his  ex- 
ample, must  permit  the  curtain  to  fall  on  this  scene, 
as  we  hold  it  a  profane  intrusion  for  any  ear  to 
listen  to  the  first  confessions  of  reciprocated,  happy 
love. 


Events  have  already  meted  "  fit  retribution"  to 
most  of  the  parties  who  have  figured  in  our  long 
story.     A  few  particulars  remain. 

There  was  one  man  of  Chaddock's  crew  left  alive 
to  tell  the  tale  ;  the  same  whose  footsteps,  it  may  be 
recollected,  Sir  Philip  heard,  and  on  whom  he  had 
vainly  called  for  assistance.  This  man  was  linger- 
ing to  observe  the  principal  actors  in  the  tragedy 
when  the  explosion  took  place,  and,  with  the  rest, 
was  blown  into  the  air ;  but  he  escaped  with  his 
life,  gained  the  boat,  and  came,  the  next  day,  safely 
to  the  shore,  where  he  related  all  he  knew,  to  the 
great  relief  of  the  curiosity  of  the  good  people  of 
Boston. 

Strict  search  was,  by  the  governor's  order,  made 
for  the  bodies  of  the  unhappy  WTetches  who  had  been 
so  suddenly  sent  to  their  doom. 

Jennet's  was  one  of  the  first  found  :  the  handker- 
chief that  had  been  bound  over  her  head  still  re- 
mained, the  knot  which  defied  Sir  Philip's  skill  hav- 
ing also  resisted  the  lashing  of  the  waves.     When 


HOPE    LESLIE.  257 

this  screen  was  removed  and  the  body  identified,  the 
mystery  of  her  disappearance  was  at  once  explained. 
"  Death  wipes  out  old  scores ;"  and  even  Jennet, 
deadf  was  wrapped  in  the  mantle  of  charity ;  but  all 
who  had  known  her  living,  mentally  confessed  that 
Death  could  not  have  been  more  lenient  in  select- 
ing a  substitute  for  the  precious  life  he  had  men- 
aced. 

Poor  Rosa's  remains  were  not 

"  Left  to  float  upon  their  wat'ry  bier 
Unwept,  and  welter  to  the  parching  wind." 

Her  youth,  her  wrongs  and  sufferings,  combined  with 
the  pleadings  of  Hope  Leslie,  obtained  for  her  the 
rites  of  a  separate  and  solemn  burial.  Tears  of  hu- 
mility and  pity  were  shed  over  her  grave — a  fit  trib- 
ute from  virtuous  and  tender  woman  to  a  fallen,  un- 
happy sister. 

All  the  bodies  of  the  sufferers  were  finally  recover- 
ed except  that  of  Sir  Phihp  Gardiner ;  and  the  in- 
ference of  our  pious  forefathers,  that  Satan  had 
seized  upon  that  as  his  lawful  spoil,  may  not  be 
deemed,  by  their  skeptical  descendants,  very  unnat- 
ural. 

We  leave  it  to  that  large  and  most  indulgent  class 
of  our  readers,  the  misses  in  their  teens,  to  adjust,  ac- 
cording to  their  own  fancy,  the  ceremonial  of  our 
heroine's  wedding,  which  took  place  in  due  time,  to 
the  joy  of  her  immediate  friends,  and  the  entire  ap- 
probation of  all  the  inhabitants  of  Boston,  who,  in 
those  early  times,  manifested  a  friendly  interest  in 
Y  2 


258  HOPE    LESLIE. 

individual  concerns,  which  is  said  to  characterize 
them  to  the  present  day. 

The  elder  Fletcher  remained  with  his  children, 
and  permitted  himself  to  enjoy  to  the  full  the  happi- 
ness which  it  was  plain  Providence  had  prepared 
for  him.  The  close  of  his  life  was  as  the  clear  shi- 
ning forth  of  the  sun  after  a  stormy  and  troubled 
day. 

Dame  Grafton  evinced  some  mortification  at  the 
discovery  of  the  fallibiUty  of  her  judgment  in  relation 
to  Sir  Philip  Gardiner ;  but  she  soon  dubbed  hini  Sir 
Janus — a  name  that  implied  he  had  two  faces ;  and 
her  sagacity  was  not  at  fault  if  she  judged  by  the  one 
presented  to  her.  Her  trifling  vexation  was  soon 
forgotten  in  her  participation  in  her  niece's  felicity, 
and  in  her  busy  preparations  for  the  wedding  ;  and, 
after  that  event,  she  was  made  so  happy  by  the  du- 
tiful care  of  Hope  and  Everell,  that  she  ceased  to  re- 
gret Old  England,  till,  falling  into  her  dotage,  her 
entreaties,  combining  wdth  some  other  motives,  in- 
duced them  to  visit  their  mother- country,  where  the 
old  lady  died,  and  was  buried  in  the  tomb  of  the 
Leslies,  the  church  burial-service  being  performed  by 
the  Bishop  of  London.  Her  unconsciousness  of  this 
poetic  justice  must  be  regretted  by  all  who  respect 
innocent  prejudices. 

We  hope  that  class  of  readers  above  alluded  to 
will  not  be  shocked  at  our  heroine's  installing  Mas- 
ter Cradock  as  a  life-member  of  her  domestic  estab- 
lishment. We  are  sure  their  kind  hearts  would  rec- 
oncile them  to  this  measure  if  they  could  know  with 


HOPE    LESLIE.  259 

what  fidelity,  and  sweetness,  and  joy  to  the  good 
man  she  performed  the  promise  she  gave  in  Mag- 
awisca's  prison,  "  that  she  would  be  a  child  to  his 
old  age."  If  they  are  still  discontented  with  the  ar- 
rangement, let  them  perform  an  action  of  equal  kind- 
ness, and  they  will  learn,  from  experience,  that  our 
heroine  had  her  reward. 

Digby  never  ceased,  after  the  event  had  verified 
them,  to  pride  himself  on  his  own  presentiments  and 
his  wife's  dreams.  A  friendship  between  him  and 
Everell  and  Hope  subsisted  through  his  life,  and  de- 
scended, a  precious  legacy,  through  many  genera- 
tions of  their  descendants,  fortified  by  favours  on  the 
one  part,  and  gratitude  on  the  other,  and  reciprocal 
affection. 

Barnaby  Tuttle,  and  his  timely  compliance  with 
her  wishes,  were  not  forgotten  by  our  heroine.  Per- 
suaded by  her  advice,  and  enabled  by  an  annual  sti- 
pend from  her  to  do  so,  he  retired  from  his  solitary 
post  of  jailer,  and  passed  his  old  age  comfortably 
with  his  daughter  Ruth,  versifying  psalms,  and  play- 
ing with  the  little  Tuttles. 

After  the  passage  of  two  or  three  years,  Miss 
Dow^ning  returned  to  New-England,  and  renew^ed 
her  intercourse  with  Everell  and  Hope,  without  any 
other  emotions  on  either  side  than  those  which  be- 
long to  v/arm  and  tender  friendship.  Her  personal 
loveliness.  Christian  graces,  and  the  high  rank  she 
held  in  the  colony,  rendered  her  an  object  of  very 
general  attraction. 

Her  hand  was  often  and  eagerly  sought,  but  she 


260  HOPE    LESLIE. 

appears  never  to  have  felt  a  second  engrossing  at- 
tachment. The  current  of  her  purposes  and  affec- 
tions had  set  another  way.  She  illustrated  a  truth, 
which,  if  more  generally  received  by  her  sex,  might 
save  a  vast  deal  of  misery :' that  marriage  is  not  es- 
sential to  the  contentment,  the  dignity,  or  the  happi- 
ness of  woman.  ^  Indeed,  those  who  saw  on  how 
wide  a  sphere  her  kindness  shone,  how  many  were 
made  better  and  happier  by  her  disinterested  devo- 
tion, might  have  rejoiced  that  she  did  not 

"  Give  to  a  party  what  was  meant  for  mankind." 


NOTES. 


(1.)  "  She  understands  and  speaks  English  perfectly  well." 
—Page  24,  25,  vol.  i. 

We  would  take  the  liberty  to  refer  those  who  may  think  we 
have  here  violated  probability,  to  Winthrop,  who  speaks  of  a 
Pequod  maiden  who  attended  Miantunnomoh  as  interpreter, 
and  "  spoke  English  perfectly." 

(2.)  "  Monoca,  the  mother  of  these  children,  was  noted  for 
the  singular  dignity  and  modesty  of  her  demeanour." — Page  25, 
vol.  i. 

For  those  who  disbelieve  the  existence  in  savage  life  of  the 
virtues  which  we  have  ascribed  to  this  Indian  woman,  we  quote 
cm-  authority : 

"  Among  the  Pequod  captives  were  the  wife  and  children  of 
Mononotto.  She  was  particularly  noticed  by  the  English  for 
her  great  modesty,  humanity,  and  good  sense.  She  made  it  as 
her  only  request  that  she  might  not  be  injured  either  as  to  her 
offspring  or  personal  honour.  As  a  requital  for  her  kindness  to 
the  captivated  maids,  her  life  and  the  lives  of  her  children  w^ere 
not  only  spared,  but  they  were  particularly  recommended  to 
the  care  of  Governor  Winthrop.  He  gave  charge  for  their  pro- 
tection and  kind  treatment." — Trumbull's  Hist,  of  Connecticut. 
See  also  Hubbard's  Indian  Wars,  p.  47. 

(3.)  "  They  told  him  they  would  spare  his  life  if  he  would 
guide  them  to  our  strongholds  ;  he  refused." — Page  71,  vol.  i. 

"  But,  finding  that  the  sachems,  whom  they  had  spared, 
would  give  them  no  information,  they  beheaded  them  on  their 
march,  at  a  place  called  Mekunkatuck,  since  Guilford." — Ibid. 

(4.)  "  You  Enghsh  tell  us,  Everell,  that  the  book  of  your 
law  is  better  than  that  written  on  our  hearts,"  &c. — Pages  71, 
72,  vol.  i. 

The  language  of  the  Indians,  as  reported  by  Heckewelder, 


262  NOTES. 

verifies  so  strongly  the  sentiment  in  our  text,  and  is  so  power- 
ful an  admonition  to  Christians,  that  we  here  quote  it  for  those 
who  may  not  have  met  with  the  interesting  work  of  this  excel- 
lent Moravian  missionary.  "  And  yet,"  say  those  injured  peo- 
ple, "these  white  men  would  always  be  telling  us  of  their  great 
Book  which  God  had  given  to  them.  They  would  persuade 
us  that  every  man  was  good  who  believed  in  what  the  book 
said,  and  every  man  was  bad  who  did  not  beheve  in  it.  They 
told  us  a  great  many  things  which  they  said  were  written  in 
the  good  Book,  and  wanted  us  to  believe  it  all.  We  would 
probably  have  done  so  if  we  had  seen  them  practise  what  they 
pretended  to  believe,  and  act  according  to  the  good  words  which 
they  told  us.  But  no !  while  they  held  their  big  book  in  one 
hand,  in  the  other  they  had  murderous  weapons,  guns  and 
swords,  wherewith  to  kill  us  poor  Indians.  Ah  !  and  they  did 
so  too  !" 

(5.)  "  The  Indians  remained  standing,"  &c. — Page  214, 
vol.  i. 

The  characteristic  conduct  of  the  Narragansett  chief  is  trans- 
ferred to  our  pages  from  Winthrop,  who  thus  describes  it : 
"  When  we  should  go  to  dinner,  there  was  a  table  provided  for 
the  Indians  to  dine  by  themselves,  and  Miantunnomoh  was  left 
to  sit  with  them.  This  he  was  discontented  at,  and  would  eat 
nothing  till  the  governor  sent  him  meat  from  his  table.  So  at 
night,  and  all  the  time  he  stayed,  he  sat  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
magistrate's  table." 

(6.)  "  She  entered  the  enclosure,  now  the  churchyard  of  the 
stone  chapel." — Page  249,  vol.  i. 

This  was  the  first  burial-place  in  Boston ;  and  as  early  as  the 
year  1630,  consecrated  by  the  interment  of  Mr.  Johnson,  who 
died  of  grief  for  the  loss  of  his  wife,  the  Lady  Arbella,  "  the 
pride  of  the  colony.''^  "  He  was,"  says  Winthrop,  "  a  holy  man 
and  wise,  and  died  in  sweet  peace."  And  another  contempo- 
rary historian  says,  that  he  was  so  beloved  that  many  persons 
requested  their  bodies  might  be  interred  near  his. 

(7.)  "  That  gentleman,  sir,  is  the  apostle  of  New-England." 
— Page  156,  vol.  ii. 

We  believe  we  have  anticipated,  by  three  or  four  years,  this 


NOTES.  263 

title,  so  well  earned  and  generally  bestowed.  We  cannot  pass 
the  hallowed  name  of  Ehot  without  pausing  earnestly  to  be- 
seech our  youthful  readers  to  study  his  history,  in  which  they 
will  find  exemplified,  from  youth  to  extreme  old  age,  the  di- 
vine precepts  of  his  Master.  He  was  the  first  Protestant  mis- 
sionary to  the  Indians  ;  for  nearly  half  a  century  their  instruct- 
er,  friend,  and  father ;  and  when,  during  the  war  with  the  ter- 
rific Philip  of  Mount  Hope,  fear  had  turned  every  hand  and 
heart  against  them,  and  their  utter  extinction  was  regarded  by 
most  as  necessary  to  the  salvation  of  the  English  colonies,  Eliot 
was  still  their  indefatigable  and  fearless  advocate.  The  Chris- 
tian philanthropist  will  delight  to  follow  this  good  man  through 
his  diocess  of  Indian  churches  ;  to  see  him  surrounded  by  his 
simple  catechumens,  dealing  out  the  bread  of  hfe  to  them  ;  to 
go  with  him  to  his  "prophet's  chamber"  at  Natick — that  apart- 
ment prepared  by  the  love  of  his  Indian  disciples,  and  conse- 
crated by  his  prayers ;  and,  finally,  to  stand  by  his  bedside 
when,  in  extreme  old  age,  like  his  prototype  "  the  beloved 
apostle,"  all  other  affections  had  melted  into  a  flame  of  love. 
"  Alas  !"  he  said,  "  I  have  lost  everything.  My  understanding 
leaves  me.  My  memory — my  utterance  fails  me  ;  but  I  thank 
God  my  charity  holds  out  still.  I  find  that  grows  rather  than 
fai%' 

His  name  has  been  appropriately  given  to  a  flourishing  mis- 
sionary station,  w^here  the  principle  on  which  he  at  all  times 
insisted  is  acted  upon,  viz.,  "that  the  Indians  must  be  civil- 
ized, as  well  as,  if  not  in  order  to,  their  being  Christianized." 
This  principle  has  no  opposers  in  our  age  ;  and  we  cannot  but 
hope  that  the  present  enlightened  labours  of  the  followers  of 
Eliot  will  be  rewarded  with  such  success  as  shall  convert  the 
faint-hearted,  the  cold,  and  the  skeptical  into  ardent  promoters 
of  missions  to  the  Indian  race. 

(8.)  "  I  know,"  she  said,  *'  that  it  contains  thy  rule." — Page 
165,  vol.  ii. 

This  reply  of  Magawisca  we  have  somewhere  seen  given  as 
the  genuine  answer  of  an  Indian  to  the  solicitation  of  a  mis- 
sionary, but  are  not  able  now  to  refer  to  our  authority. 


264  NOTES. 

(9.)  "Moscutusett." 

Among  the  various  conjectures  respecting  the  etymology  of 
the  word  Massachusetts,  the  following,  communicated  by  Neal, 
appears  the  most  satisfactory :  "  The  sachem  who  governed 
this  part  of  the  country  had  his  seat  on  a  hill,  about  two  leagues 
to  the  southward  of  Boston.  It  lies  in  the  shape  of  an  Indian 
arrow-head,  which  is  called,  in  their  language,  'Mos'  or  *Mons.' 
A  hill,  in  their  language,  is  '  Wetusett,'  pronounced  Wechusett ; 
hence  the  great  sachem's  seat  was  called  *  Moscutusett,'  from 
whence,  with  a  small  variation,  the  province  received  the  name 
of  Massachusetts." — Hist,  of  Boston. 

This  hill  is  in  the  town  of  Quincy,  and  now  known  by  the 
name  of  "  Sachem's  Hill." 


THE    END. 


4  6  98     18 


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